
H 



■ Hi 



»B 



O *.,-.• A 

'- \ ^ 





















<£°* 



.&* 




0' 




^ «, *A^V^.^ ^ 

> V * y • °* ex a? * Vp 




x- X«? 

F* <& ^ 






<^ *© ♦ A * XT \ 

v*cr 





r/ ** v % 









i 























Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2011 with funding from 
The Library of Congress 



http://www.archive.org/details/gypsyingbeyondseOOIent 



GYPSYING BEYOND THE SEA 

FROM ENGLISH FIELDS TO 

SALERNO SHORES 






WILLIAM BEMENT LENT 



r^78r?Vf 



ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH ^COMPANY 
(.mcorpowted) |32 FIFTH AVE..NEWYORK 



\ 
\' 



THE LIBRARY 
OF CONGRESS 

WASHINGTON 



Copyright, 1893, 
By Anson D. F. Randolph and Company 

(INCORPORATED). 






John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S.A. 



CO^TTE^TS. 



Page 

Toward the Northern Lights 1 

The Winter Palace 10 

The Cathedral of St. Isaac's 19 

In St. Petersburg 26 

The Hermitage 36 

Peterhof 45 

Tsarskoe Selo ..... 54 

A Change of Base 63 

Holy Moscow 70 

The Acropolis of Moscow ....... 79 

A Te Deum in Stone 103 

Fragmentary 110 

JFintaift. 

An Unbeclouded Way 119 

The Danish Capital 127 

The Venice of the North ....... 136 



iv CONTENTS. 

Etalg, 

Page 

An Eden of To-day . . . 147 

The Bride of the Sea . 165 

The Lily of the Arno 181 

The Sanctuaries of Florence ...... 190 

Some Sights in Rome not mentioned in Baed- 

aeker 199 

Ribs of an Old Hulk 206 

A Fagot of Italian Sticks 211 



/ GYPSYIXG BEYOND THE SEA. 



RUSSIA, 



TOWARD THE NORTHERN LIGHTS. 

To hear the average tourist, the ordinary 
hotel proprietor, or the bland ticket-agent talk 
of a proposed trip to Russia, one would think 
that over every gateway to the czar's dominions 
is inscribed the legend, " Who enters here leaves 
hope behind." "A long, hard journey," "noth- 
ing worth seeing," "poor hotels," "exasperating 
customs-examination," "annoying police sur- 
veillance," and "horribly expensive," were some 
of the Anak giants conjured up by the crowd 
of spies who knew not the land; but neverthe- 
less the few Calebs and Joshuas we met gave 
us the Eschol grapes of quiet assurance in the 
remarks, "It is a long journey, but it pays," 
and, "Be sure to go " As a matter of fact, 
however, we had no trouble; the hotels were 

VOL. II. — 1 



2 TOWAKD THE NORTHERN LIGHTS, 

excellent, travelling more than comfortable, and 
the dreaded customs-examination were in our 
case the merest form. Doubtless we were under 
the surveillance of the police, — our passports 
demonstrated that; but as we didn't hurt any- 
body or seek to overturn the present regime, 
they did not molest us, and the days came and 
went in a glory of novelty, interest, and inces- 
sant change. 

But it is hard to get started! Ordinarily, it 
is an easy matter to procure any needed infor- 
mation for out-of-the-way trips in Europe ; but 
when the eyes are turned Russia-ward, all 
sort of dust is thrown in them. Even in the 
matter of guide-books one's choice is small; for 
" Baedaeker " is published only in German, and 
one must fall back upon large, dull, and volumi- 
nous "Murray," of which it can be truly said 
that if what you do want was put in one volume 
and what you don't in another, the latter would 
be most cumbersome! 

After all our foraging it was humiliating, but 
at the same time a little droll, to leave Berlin at 
the uncanny hour of eleven o'clock at night. 
For the first time in our wanderings Ave had 
been able to check our luggage direct from the 
hotel to our destination, — St. Petersburg. Our 
compartments in " Wagon-lit," or sleeper, had 
been engaged some days before, and our beds 



ON TO RUSSIA. 3 

were ready for occupancy, all handsome and 
commodious. The night was uneventful; no 
collisions or delays occurred, and there was 
only the steady, jog, jog, jog of the train. In 
the early morning we looked out upon a level 
country dotted with fine villages, farms, and 
detached houses, and having a general appear- 
ance of high cultivation; we soon passed the 
Baltic Sea, and about nine reached Konigsberg, 
where in 1861 the late Kaiser William was 
crowned. But the strongly fortified station was 
too far from the town to allow us to get more 
than a glimpse of distant towers, spires, and 
roofs; and for three or four succeeding hours 
there was really little to see, for the country 
was very level, and each mile simply repeated 
the one just passed. Yet the appearance of 
farms, hamlets, and buildings was interesting, 
all being very finished, and indicative of great 
prosperity. 

A few minutes before one o'clock we arrived 
at Eydkuhen, the last Prussian station, and five 
minutes later we were at Werballen, and on 
Russian soil at last! Here we left the train, 
and filed into a large room, giving up our pass- 
ports as we entered, and waited to see what we 
should see. The customs-examination was most 
courteous and informal. A fair, delicate -faced 
officer in handsome military uniform came along 



4 TOWARD THE NORTHERN LIGHTS. 

in a few moments with our passports, and in a 
most gentlemanly manner asked us in perfect 
English if we had anything dutiable. On 
receiving our usual answer to such a question, 
he motioned to two of his subordinates, who 
opened our trunk, glanced lightly at its con- 
tents, closed it, and without any examination 
of our hand-satchels a porter took them by the 
officer's order and guided us to the restaurant. 
That was all there was of that great giant of 
Anak, which had made us fairly afraid! After 
that we went through the land with our colors 
flying, for silken "stars and stripes" lay always 
on top of the things inside our trunk and bags^ 

It was amusing to note the change a few min- 
utes had made. At Eydkuhen we saw fair 
German faces, German uniforms, and heard the 
German language ; five minutes later we encoun- 
tered the astrakan and scarlet cap, white cock- 
ade and cossack uniforms, the long-cloaked, 
flat-capped officials, and the indescribable Eus- 
sian signs. The latter, all along the line and 
throughout the whole country, were near about 
the death of us. In the formation of the Eus- 
sian alphabet, it looks as though the philological 
committee, after a long carouse, had chosen a 
number of our Eoman letters to use straight, a 
lot more to place "hind side before," a few of 
the remaining ones to arrange upside down for 



ON TO RUSSIA. 5 

variety; and then, to crown all, they appear to 
have added ad libitum a job lot of original char- 
acters of their own distorted fancy, producing 
altogether a most topsy-turvy result, which 
would be amusing were it not so exasperating. 

The outside of the Russian sleeping-car which 
we occupied looked like a long sheet-iron box. 
Inside, the compartments, which were placed 
crosswise, were commodious but plain, with 
oilcloth-covered sides and ceiling, and one small 
window, — presenting a striking contrast to the 
rich appointments and sumptuous belongings of 
our Pullmans and Wagners. 

The change from German to Russian territory 
is very noticeable, for the farms and buildings 
of the latter are much inferior to those of the 
former. The country reminded us of Kansas 
lands, looking perfectly level, but being in 
many places really quite billowy and undulat- 
ing. All over the verdant plain were little 
groups of one-story, thatched-roof farm build- 
ings, quite as poor looking as those upon newly 
opened lands in our far West. As we travelled 
on and on, however, the appearance was more 
like waste or only partially cleared and culti- 
vated lands. The villages were quite uniform; 
the houses, being of one story, with a porch in 
the centre, unpainted and brown with age, and 
with dull-colored thatched roofs, seemed poor 



6 TOWARD THE NORTHERN LIGHTS. 

and inferior, although apparently tidy and well 
kept. Late in the afternoon we passed through 
some fortifications, and came into quite an 
undulating country. The whole stretch is his- 
toric ground, for Napoleon fought over it; but 
one wonders, from the look of it, what there 
was worth struggling for! At every station 
were groups of stolid-faced, fair-haired people, 
and once in a while a characteristic costume 
or dress ; but military uniforms, gray-brown 
worsted or linen working-suits, and ordinary 
European dress predominated. The station- 
houses and surroundings were remarkably pretty, 
in a style plainly the outgrowth of the old log- 
houses, and were surrounded by neat fences 
and a profusion of shrubbery and trees. Even 
the water-tanks were very ornamental. At 
the larger towns the stations were of brick 
and very imposing, surpassing any upon our 
roads. At every "eating-place" we found large 
dining-saloons with lofty ceilings and palatial 
appointments. 

At 8 p. m. we arrived at Vilna, — called " little 
Paris," — a place of importance, with a popula- 
tion of ninety-four thousand, and a centre of 
great historical interest. The view of the town 
(situated in a hollow at one side), with its 
numerous domes, towers, and roofs, is very 
pretty and picturesque. The masses of tall 



ON TO RUSSIA. 7 

blossoming shrubs and lilacs, just beyond the 
station, were a sight, and our respect for the 
latter as an ornamental feature will be greater 
hereafter. It was at this place that Napoleon 
on his retreat from Eussia parted with his 
army in disguise, and heartlessly left twenty 
thousand sick in rude hospitals. In 1812 it 
was the centre of Napoleon's operations ; he 
entered it in triumph on the last of June, but 
left it dishonored within six short months. It 
is also the scene of many Polish vicissitudes 
and hardships. But now, surrounded by a 
succession of ravines "clothed with foliage of 
the fir, the birch, and the lime," it presents a 
serene and attractive appearance, as though war 
or even rumors of war had never reached it. 
After leaving Vilna, the country was exceed- 
ingly pretty, being a succession of tiny ravines 
and wooded hills, with poor but most pictur- 
esque cottages half hidden in the woods. We 
had a glorious sunset, — a clear horizon, with 
light broken leaden clouds high above, which 
catching the light were transfigured into crim- 
son and gold, while the sky glowed in every 
shade of orange, amber, gold, and yellow. At 
8.30 p. m. the sun was still above the horizon; 
at 9.30 the sky was still glowing in glorious 
tints of amber and yellow, and it was very 
light. We awoke at 3 a. m. to find it "as light 



8 TOWARD THE NORTHERN LIGHTS. 

as day." Unconsciously we had been going 
north, and had come into the long twilight and 
early dawn, to which we could never quite 
become accustomed. We found it perfectly 
easy later, while in St. Petersburg, at 2 a. m. 
to read small print without artificial light, and 
were always obliged to darken the windows 
with tablecloths so that we might sleep. 

The next morning we looked upon a country 
even more suggestive of Canada than that of 
the day before was of our Western plains. It 
was of course monotonous, but everything was 
so verdant, the birch woods so pretty, and the 
cleared farms and houses so picturesque, that 
the time passed pleasantly. There is so little 
motion to the train that one can read, sew, or 
even write with ease. We stopped at Pskof for 
breakfast ; but as this important town is some 
two miles away, all we saw was a large and 
imposing station, with tracks covered with 
arched roof of iron and glass, and a number of 
ornamental summer cottages, with attractive 
surroundings among the fir-trees, quite like one 
of our pretty Jersey shore summer-resorts. The 
only other place of note was Gatchina, a lovely 
and ornamental village of tasteful and pretty 
villas. Somewhere in the woods near by is the 
favorite royal palace of the present czar, which 
contains six hundred rooms, and is surrounded 



ON TO RUSSIA. 9 

by an extensive park, neither of which is the 
public allowed to enter. There the czar lives 
in greatest seclusion. All his movements are 
kept secret, so that it is not even known when 
he visits his capital. 

The last hours of our journey, because of dust 
and excessive heat, became very wearisome. A 
few minutes before reaching the capital we 
could see, in the distance, piercing the hazy 
atmosphere, the familiar slender spire of the 
Admiralty, and beyond, the glitter of golden 
domes. At exactly two o'clock, thirty-nine hours 
after leaving Berlin, we rolled into the station at 
St. Petersburg. A hotel porter awaited us, and 
in a few moments we were driving rapidly over a 
good old-fashioned cobble-stone pavement. Later, 
we never ceased to look in amazement at the 
miles of handsome streets paved in this manner. 
Upon some of the most important thoroughfares 
there is a narrow strip of wood pavement in- 
serted; but the Tartar Jehus seem to take a 
fiendish delight in driving the little low -wheeled 
droskies always on the stones. We were soon 
settled at the Hotel de L'Europe, with attrac- 
tive rooms, good table, and English spoken by 
the servants; and so giant No. Two was laid. 



THE WINTER PALACE. 

At a first glance St. Petersburg, in a certain 
sense, was disappointing. At so great a dis- 
tance from the frontier, and in the very heart 
of the Russian Empire, we looked for something 
more characteristic and national, more startling 
and bizarre, — or, as it was humorously put, 
expected to see a Pole stuck up here, a Tartar 
squatting there, and a wild Cossack riding full 
tilt through the streets, much as many good 
English people think to see the Indians walk- 
ing up Broadway. Instead we looked upon a 
modern and beautiful city, so modern that but 
for the peculiarly clustered domes, the inde- 
scribable signs, the droll little droskies, and 
an occasional priest in flowing robes and dis- 
hevelled hair, one could easily imagine himself 
in any other European capital. It is indeed 
a beautiful city, with many wide and handsome 
streets making fine and effective vistas, open 
plazas, and small parks, monuments and statues, 
churches whose gilded domes and tinted towers 
flush and glisten in the sunlight, and palaces 



ST. PETERSBURG. 11 

and public buildings of great extent and number. 
Canals wind through the city, and the rapid 
Neva courses its way through the city's heart, 
lined with massive granite quays, and faced by 
fine structures, gardens, and fortresses. 

The Kussian peculiarities really show but 
little in St. Petersburg. The droskies are 
characteristic, small, and low, with traces at- 
tached to the hubs of the front wheels, and the 
most comically attired coachmen, who look like 
old women in their long grotesque wrapper-like 
livery, but like "the girl of the period" in their 
queer little beaver hats. As bearing upon "the 
origin of species," it is only necessary to say 
that the very same hats can be seen on our 
streets to-day, with the additional features of 
a feather stuck up behind. We always laughed 
at the cabbies, and it seemed as if they "got 
square" by rattling our bones over the cobble- 
stones every chance they had; and how they 
did go ! The priests of the Greek Church walk 
the streets in long voluminous robes and droll 
band-box hats, and are a wild, unkempt-appear- 
ing set, with long flowing hair, which oftener 
than not looks as if it needed a good combing. 
Occasionally mendicant nuns, in high stove-pipe 
hats all enveloped in black veils, entirely unlike 
any costume seen elsewhere, are met. Once in 
a while, a man goes along in a sheep-skin coat, 



12 THE WINTER PALACE. 

and you give him a wide berth. Military cos* 
tumes are literally the rule, for Eussia is a 
military despotism. Looking at the officers, as 
representing an educated class, one would say 
the Eussians are not a handsome race. Thin, 
pale faces predominate; about every other one 
wears spectacles, and all look sober, hurried, and 
careworn. But one needs to come twice, — once 
at this time of the year (June) when the climate, 
the churches, and galleries are warm enough to . 
make sight-seeing a pleasure; and once in the 
winter, to see the characteristic sledges and 
costumes and gay life of the capital. 

Few Continental cities except Paris give finer 
vistas than those afforded by Nevski Prospect, 
the principal business street, wide and impos- 
ing, and ending with a park, above the great 
trees of which, like a lance hurtling through 
the air, appears the slender spire of the Admi- 
ralty; or by the turbid rapid Neva, with its 
long line of palaces and public buildings dying 
away in the soft golden haze of distance. The 
city itself is monumental, a tribute to indomit- 
able energy and perseverance, for its site was 
an extensive marsh when in 1703 Peter the 
Great began its construction. It is said that 
for years forty thousand men were drafted 
annually from distant parts of the empire to work 
upon this " window to the north" which he 



ST. PETERSBURG. 13 

wished to create; and they tell a droll story, 
that for years every cart or vessel that entered 
it was bound to bring a certain number of 
cobble-stones for paving. From present appear- 
ances it is doubtful if a single one was ever lost 
or wasted. Embellished and enriched by a long 
line of sovereigns, the monotonous but beautiful 
metropolis floats to-day like a richly ladened 
Argosy literally upon (for it is surrounded by) 
the waters, and in constant peril of inundation. 

None of the Eoyal or Grand Ducal or impos- 
ing private palaces are open to visitors save 
the celebrated Winter Palace, long the abode 
of the court, and the scene in former j^ears of 
festivities and gayeties of unsurpassed extrava- 
gance and lavish richness and display; and con- 
siderable "red tape" had to be unrolled before 
we found admittance even to this. First, a call 
at our own embassy, where a polite request was 
written for us ; then, a presentation at the palace, 
only to be told that we must apply at an office 
of the court, there to be told that the card of 
admission would be given the next day; then, 
fully armed and equipped, we presented our- 
selves at the stated time, only to be told that 
some foreign prince was to be shown the rooms, 
and no one else would be admitted; finally, 
upon the third and last time success perched 
upon our banners. Gorgeously attired flunkies 



14 THE WINTER PALACE. 

received us, and in a few moments we began 
what proved to be a continuous walk of two 
hours, through apartments grande and petite; 
through glittering marble halls, salons gorgeous 
with colors and gold; corridors brilliant with 
pictures; winter gardens of palms and ferns; 
suites of private drawing-rooms, etc., furnished 
much as such rooms are everywhere by persons 
of wealth, and suites of dainty bedrooms, 
boudoirs, baths, etc. It tired us out, for the 
polished floors were as slippery as glass, and 
the maze of decorations and multitude of pic- 
tures and "articles of bigotry and virtue," 
necessitated a wearisome craning of the neck 
in every direction. The structure is simply 
immense, with a frontage upon the Neva of 455 
feet, and a depth of 350, and a wide exposure 
on three sides, and a height of four stories. It 
is neither imposing nor impressive, being monoto- 
nous in style, of a warm pinkish terra-cotta 
tint, and quite like a huge hotel. The grand 
entrance faces the Neva; and from the top of its 
porch, which forms a large balcony, the most 
magnificent and sweeping view in the city up 
and down the river is obtained. Lifted just 
high enough, the eye takes in the entire sweep 
of the rapid stream until it bends in either 
direction out of sight. It was superb, that 
lovely sunny day, for every palace and public 



ST. PETERSBURG. 15 

building, every dome and tower, was ablaze with 
golden sunlight. 

The palace is a perfect labyrinth, confusing 
and wearisome. Since the cruel death of the 
late emperor it has been used only for state 
ceremonials, banquets, and court balls. When 
illuminated, it must be dazzling and magnifi- 
cent. We went up stairs and down, a half-mile 
here and a half-mile there, and saw the stately 
marble staircases, the enormous and imposing 
state departments, and the pretty little suites 
of private rooms; we also saw the place where 
the premature but fearful explosion of dynamite 
occurred in 1880, just as the late emperor and 
family, with several royal guests and a brilliant 
court, were passing into the banqueting-hall, 
and the staircase, by which a year later the 
fearfully lacerated emperor was brought into 
the palace to die. 

To give an idea of the state rooms, we note, 
first, the Nicholas Hall, or ball-room, — a most 
lofty, palatial, and magnificent apartment with 
four immense buffets, gorgeous with, huge and 
superb pieces of gold and silver plate, and with 
eight crystal chandeliers and twelve standard 
candelabra, all of enormous size, making the 
cold, white, and golden rooms a glitter of iri- 
descent and prismatic lights. Then, second, 
there was St. George's Hall (one hundred and 



16 THE WINTER PALACE. 

forty feet long and sixty feet wide), with mag- 
nificent Corinthian columns; a large concert 
room, with shelves heavily laden with enormous 
gold platters and dishes, exquisitely encrusted 
with brilliantly colored enamels; another room 
richly fitted up and covered with lovely blue 
china; a circular hall, with balustraded gallery 
and domed roof, hung with faultlessly beautiful 
full-length portraits of several defunct emperors 
and empresses, against superb draperies of 
plush. One room had furniture of solid silver; 
another a gorgeous throne-room, a dazzle of gold 
and color; and still another two-story room, 
with eight huge panels hung closely with gold 
and silver plate. The amber, gold, and silver 
ornaments, statues, porcelains, crystals, and 
china were simply magnificent. In many of 
the rooms were enormous candelabra and vases, 
twelve and fifteen feet high, of St. Petersburg 
glass, resembling closely the exquisite rock- 
crystal, superbly mounted in delicate ormolu. 
Equally tall vases of porcelain, exquisitely 
painted, graced some of the rooms. The furni- 
ture was principally of gold and crimson. One 
room was filled with testimonials and gifts 
presented in 1880 to Alexander II. upon the 
twenty-fifth anniversary of his accession to the 
throne. It was a regular museum of books 
with bindings studded with gems, marvellous 



ST. PETERSBURG. 17 

embroideries, and articles in gold, silver, and 
bronze. With the exception of a few of the 
"Old Masters" in the private drawing-rooms, 
the pictures all through the wilderness of cor- 
ridors and rooms were war-scenes upon land 
and sea; some in the wild mountain-passes, in 
raging snow-storms, were repulsive and pain- 
ful. One wearies of all this strife and blood 
and carnage. These pictures quite stamp upon 
the palace a national character of brute force. 
They say an Englishman awakes in the morn- 
ing and says, "Let us kill something;" but 
judging from these pictures, the Eussian must 
be able to take an extra snooze, for there can 
be nothing left to kill! 

We witnessed an amusing and grotesque scene 
in one of the wide spacious corridors, where a 
squad of fifteen men, under the command of an 
officer, were polishing the glassy floor. With 
something bound to each foot, they moved with 
skating-like motion, in concert, with all the 
precision of a dance or military drill. 

The rooms and decorations were all showy 
and glittering. The suites of rooms occupied 
by different emperors and empresses, with 
appointments, toilet articles, etc., just as they 
left them, and the camp-beds upon which the 
Emperors Alexander and Nicholas died, form 
a most pathetic sight. The Grand Chapel is a 



18 THE WINTER PALACE. 

wild, barbarous, and bizarre tumult of gold and 
rococo ornamentation, with a hideous "ikon," 
or religious picture, "unwrought by hands," and 
another painted by Saint Luke ! The rubies 
and sapphires around them surpass all the mag- 
nificent ones in other churches. Beside them 
even the diamonds are insignificant. Close to 
it, in a costly cabinet, was the dried hand of 
John the Baptist ! Much to our regret we did 
not see the crown jewels, long one of the sights 
of Europe, with the "Orloff," the largest cut 
diamond in the world; for they have not been 
shown for the last ten years. 

It is a wearisome tramp through this palace, 
but one would not like to lose it; and even 
with modest fees there is nothing left of five 
dollars when the sight-seeing is finished! Three 
officials received us ; another attended us through- 
out the tour; at every suite a servant stood 
with the keys and took us in (in more ways 
than one) ; and every one of them expected and 
received a fee! 



St. Isaac's. 



THE CATHEDRAL OF ST. ISAAC'S. 

The morning after our arrival, without plan 
or purpose, we sauntered along Nevski Pros- 
pect, the principal business thoroughfare, — a 
scene of life and gayety, with droskies and 
carriages and many large and very handsome 
coal-black horses, dashing rapidly along, and 
a succession of pretty little shops, with a good 
display of Russian manufactures. At these the 
gold-plated and brilliant-colored enamelled silver 
table-ware and the peculiar papier-mache and 
lacquered articles were peculiarly beautiful. The 
country embroideries were not pretty enough to 
bring away, although the "drawn work" was 
exquisite. The gold and silver brocades for 
ecclesiastical and court purposes were magnifi- 
cent, and seemed often like spun metal. But 
we looked in vain for anything novel in Russian 
leather. The metal-work, such as chandeliers, 
hanging lamps, etc., are unusually handsome. 

Turning toward a little park at the end, we 
caught a glimpse of the Cathedral of St. Isaac's, 
the grandest and finest building in the city. 



20 THE CATHEDRAL OF ST. ISAAC'S. 

Now, a glimpse of a stately and imposing cathe- 
dral has much the same effect upon inveterate 
travellers as a red rag has upon a bull. In an 
instant we were in a glow, and to the cathedral 
we must go. As it stands in an immense open 
square, we first walked all around it, and saw its 
grand proportions, stately architecture, noble 
porticos, superb dome, enormous columns, and 
large groups of bronze statues, to the best advan- 
tage. In its massiveness and simplicity, its in- 
trinsic costliness of material, its immense propor- 
tions, and its grand and solemn impressiveness, it 
ranks with the finest structures in Europe; while 
its isolated position gives it an advantage over 
many, in that it throws every architectural line 
and peculiarity in boldest relief, so that nothing 
is lost. It is in the form of a Greek cross, with 
a superb and imposing portico and magnificent 
flights of granite steps at the end of each arm, 
and lofty portals and elaborate doors of bronze. 
Figures alone can convey an idea of its costli- 
ness and extent. Its foundations measure three 
hundred and sixty-four by three hundred and 
fifteen feet. Each of the porticos is supported 
by forty-eight columns, sixty feet in height and 
seven feet in diameter, "all magnificent, round, 
and highly polished monoliths M of Finland gran- 
ite, resting upon superb bases and crowned with 
richly wrought capitals of bronze. Upon the 



ST. PETERSBURG. 21 

frieze above them are texts in great bronze let- 
ters, such as "To the King of Kings," and 
" Mine house shall be called a house of prayer." 
In each pediment above is a colossal group in 
bronze. Cupolas rise from each of the four 
corners, and in the centre appears a huge but 
perfectly proportioned dome. The barrel of 
this, lifted high in air, is encircled by twenty- 
four smoothly polished granite columns (" thirty 
feet in height and weighing sixty-four tons 
each"), above which springs the dome itself, 
covered with gold, with a lantern above it, sup- 
porting a cross three hundred and thirty-six feet 
above the pavement, It is said that two hun- 
dred pounds' weight of gold were used upon 
the dome, and one hundred and eight pounds 
upon the decorations of the interior, The entire 
cost is said to have been sixteen and a quarter 
millions of dollars, — one million alone having 
been expended in the driving of piles for foun- 
dations, because of marshy soil. 

Upon entering, our first feeling was that of 
disappointment. It seemed so very dark. But 
as the eye became accustomed to the "dim reli- 
gious light," the magnificent, solemn, and stately 
character of the structure appeared. The effect 
is one of sombre, oppressive, and magnificent 
proportions. The great dome soars away, dingy 
and dull, however. One cannot help thinking 



22 THE CATHEDRAL OF ST ISAAC'S. 

of that of St. Peter's with its heavenly blue, 
its cheering glory of golden stars and orna- 
ments, and its clouds of prophets and saints, 
and its glad and exultant expression. Costliness 
of material and lavish use of the same is duly 
impressed upon one by the screens across the 
entire altar end of the building; for they are 
a blaze of gilding, mosaic pictures, and enor- 
mous malachite and lapis-lazuli columns with 
richly burnished and wrought capitals and bases 
of golden bronze. There are ten hollow iron 
columns coated with malachite, and two with 
lapis-lazuli more than thirty feet in height, the 
latter said to have cost thirty thousand dollars 
each. In the centre are two lofty metal gates, 
or doors (twenty-three feet high) of bronze, of 
openwork pattern, so exquisitely wrought and 
richly gilded as to seem of solid gold. 

The Greek Church differs widely from the 
Eomish in its forms and ritual. No instru- 
mental music is allowed. This cathedral has 
a choir of men and boys that ranks second 
only to the Chapel Royal. As they stood upon 
either side of the great golden gateways, all in 
dark -blue robes, they looked hideous, but sang 
divinely. Just what the service was we knew 
not. The priests in gorgeous flowing robes of 
blue and gold brocade, and with long, unkempt, 
and dishevelled hair, came through the gates from 



ST. PETERSBURG, 23 

the inner shrine and walked with a swaying, 
commanding air to an altar against one of the 
central piers, and there, before a jewel-encrusted 
and gold-covered Madonna and child, intoned a 
service. Such constant attention and apparent 
participation in the service by the people are 
rarely ever seen. They cross themselves every 
few moments most peculiarly, repeating the 
motion very rapidly three times, and then bow 
low, or upon their knees, bend over and touch 
their foreheads to the earth. The effect of a 
large concourse thus swaying to and fro is most 
singular, but at the same time solemn and im- 
pressive. Those who cannot look upon the 
religious expression of any service, no matter 
how little they may sympathize with it, without 
a feeling of pathetic reverence and sincere 
respect, are to be pitied. There was more or 
less of candle lighting and extinguishing, and 
at the end the people ascended the platform, 
kissed fervently the picture, and passing the 
high priest with cap or mitre, dazzling with 
costly jewels, kissed the crucifix in his hand. 
Then the procession of priests with lordly mien 
passed through the crowd, entered the portals, 
and the great golden gates were closed. 

There are 'no chairs or seats in the great 
church; all stand, for rich and poor are the 
same before God. Even the emperor stands 



24 THE CATHEDRAL OF ST. ISAAC'S. 

upon a dais, beneath a regal canopy, to one 
side. All around the churches are "ikons," or 
religious pictures of Madonnas or saints, richly 
framed, — some hanging upon the walls, and 
others supported by sumptuously carved and 
gilded lecterns. Only the hands and faces 
show as a general thing; all the rest is covered 
with a thin, elaborately-embossed and curiously- 
wrought plate of gold, often superbly ornamented 
with pearls, diamonds, and costly gems. The 
effect is rather fussy, showy, and tawdry in spite 
of the limitless cosfc, and does not accord with 
the stately, imposing character and dignity of 
the larger buildings. But none of their churches 
give the peculiarly solemn and spiritual impres- 
sion which is the charm of so many of the great 
European cathedrals. The blinding blaze of 
gold, the riot of costly gems and priceless deco- 
rations, appeal to the sensuous and material, and 
while they dazzle the eyes do not so touch the 
sober, tender, and solemn stratum that lies some- 
where in every heart. So far as observance of 
form indicates, the Russians are a very devout 
people. It is curious to note all classes and 
conditions of men, from officers to cabbies, as 
they pass on foot or in carriages the shrines and 
churches, repeatedly bow and cross themselves 
with the peculiar triple movement. 

The multitude of churches, with clustered 



ST. PETERSBURG. 25 

Oriental domes surmounted by metal crosses 
apparently steadied by long guys, all richly 
gilded, is a marked feature of the city. When 
the atmosphere is hazy, the effect of these 
golden globules, or bubbles, apparently hang- 
ing in the air, is weird and striking. Every 
church seems to have a number of bells, the 
sound of which is very musical, and is more 
like a continuous reverberation, slightly muffled, 
than the sharp, quick stroke of a bell. Often it 
is like a continuous drooning sound, rather 
plaintive and subdued, and not unpleasing. 



IN ST. PETEKSBUKG. 

Upon a small island in the rapid flowing Neva 
is the ancient and celebrated Fortress of St. 
Peter and St. Paul, begun by Peter the Great in 
1703. It is now used as a state-prison, and 
encloses within its encircling walls huge bar- 
racks, the Mint, and the quaint old-time Cathe- 
dral of St. Peter and St. Paul. This, as the 
burial-place of all the sovereigns of Eussia 
(excepting Peter II.) since the founding of St. 
Petersburg, is the most peculiar and interesting 
of all the ecclesiastical edifices. The exterior is 
white and simple, with a tower and an exces- 
sively slender spire, the summit of which pierces 
the air some three hundred and two feet above 
the ground, and is the tallest in the realm. 
Covered with copper, richly and heavily gilded, 
it glitters and trembles in the sunlight like a 
golden blade or lance. In all the views over the 
city this delicate and slender and elegant spire 
is conspicuous and striking. 

Passing just within the portal, a most singular 
scene is presented. The whole opposite or altar 



THE BURIAL-PLACE OF THE CZAHS. 27 

end is an unbroken and solid mass of gilded 
carving and open-work ornamentation, over 
which rises a dome, and a wide nave and two 
aisles spread out before one. Against each side 
of the great square piers that support the roof 
and separate nave from the aisle are clustered 
groups of captured battle-flags, the staffs resting 
upon great golden bosses. Against each pier is 
an altar and "ikon" all ablaze with solid and 
brilliant gilt. Following the walls all round the 
building are the royal mausoleums, a ghost-like 
procession! There are thirty-one of them, all 
exactly alike, being in form similar to perfectly 
plain oblong boxes of pure white polished mar- 
ble, the tops with bevelled edges, with each 
corner ornamented with a golden national double- 
headed eagle, and upon the slab or cover a large 
golden cross. Each is surmounted by a black 
iron fence with gilded ornaments, which gives to 
the interior quite a churchyard appearance. 
Wreaths and floral emblems lie upon them, while 
ivy is trained over them, and some are surrounded 
by palms and pots of blooming plants. It is all 
so white, clean, and simple that the effect is 
unique and harmonious. No one of less rank 
than an emperor or empress, grand duke or duch- 
ess, can be here interred. Here and there in the 
aisles stand great jardinieres of palms and rare 
flowers. The tomb of Alexander IT., who was 



28 IN ST. PETERSBURG. 

assassinated in 1881, was covered with freshly- 
cut flowers, while candles burned around it, and 
in a huge glass-faced cabinet in the opposite wall 
were a large number of silver wreaths and offer- 
ings. Upon one tomb lay the two enormous keys 
of conquered Polish fortresses. Just beyond, 
between Catherine and Anne, is that of Peter the 
Great. Near by is a curious image of Saint 
Peter, "the exact size of Peter the Great at his 
birth, " — 19^ by 5 \ inches! Attached to an 
"ikon" near the tomb of Alexander I. is his 
diamond wedding-ring! The bodies are buried 
beneath the church pavement, and these tombs 
that look as if they held them only rest above 
them. It is a very odd and peculiar scene ; but 
with the sumptuous gildings, the soft colors of 
the faded battle-flags, the lofty roof and the sun- 
light lying aslant these white and simple tombs, 
it surpasses in unostentatious richness and 
impressiveness any royal burial-place we have 
seen. 

In the immediate vicinity of the fortress is a 
relic of the past, reverently and religiously pre- 
served, — the cottage of Peter the Great, the first 
house built upon the banks of the Neva, in 1703, 
and inhabited by him while superintending the 
laying out and building of this now gay capital- 
It is covered or protected by a pretty square and 
surrounded by a little garden, and is entered 



PETER THE GREATS HOUSE. 29 

through an imposing portal with tall gilded iron 
gates. The house is fifty -five feet long by twenty 
wide, and is built of logs well planed, and has 
very modern looking windows, with ornamen- 
tal hinges, and being well painted seems like 
everything but a genuine "antique." There are 
but two rooms, one having several pieces of old 
carved furniture and straight -back chairs. The 
other room, originally the kitchen, is now fitted 
up as a chapel, and is a dazzling mass of superbly 
gilded, framed, and faced "ikons." Service was 
going on, candles were burning, and the compact 
crowd bowing continually. Near by, under 
cover, is the boat of Peter the Great, which is 
called "the grandfather of the Eussian navy." 
Built before his day, and found by him under a 
shed upon the estate of his grandfather, he caused 
it to be launched, and by sailing it acquired a 
nautical taste which resulted in the construction 
of a fleet. It is tenderly cared for, and kept 
painted exactly as in the "good old times." 

Next to St. Isaac's, Kazan Cathedral is the 
most imposing and magnificent sacred edifice in 
St. Petersburg. Situated upon an open square, 
facing Nevski Prospect, the principal street, it 
presents a most majestic and noble appearance, 
with a continuous semi-circular colonnade of four 
rows of columns (one hundred and thirty-six in 
all) with a huge dome rising above the facade. 



30 IN ST. PETERSBURG. 

It is called the Eussian St. Peter's, but the 
resemblance is not striking. It is in the form of 
a Latin cross, a most unusual thing. Were it a 
Bom an church the interior would be very fine, 
while it is really, because of the gilded screens 
and showy " ikons, " flags, and stalls for sale of 
candles, etc., decidedly "shoppy" and unimpres- 
sive. The long nave with two rows of columns 
upon either side, each, a monolith of polished 
Finland granite (fifty-six in all) with bronze 
capitals and bases, and an arched coppered ceil- 
ing, is superb. 

The whole eastern end is filled with " ikonastas " 
(a long screen), with railings, all of solid silver! 
There is said to be half a ton of the metal used. 
Then there are six huge candelabra of solid sil- 
ver, each weighing two hundred pounds. But 
with all the golden frame-work and paintings and 
silver screens, etc., the effect is neither rich nor 
handsome, but tawdry, theatrical, and bizarre. 
The doors of the sanctuary are of solid silver, 
with painted panels with saints, and, above, the 
name of the Almighty in diamond letters! Upon 
one side of the doors hangs a copy of the miracu- 
lous Kazan picture of the Virgin, covered, save 
the face and hands, with the finest and most deli- 
cately wrought mat of gold, — literally covered 
with the richest and most costly gems. The 
value is over seventy-five thousand dollars, — 



KAZAN CATHEDRAL. 31 

diamonds by the hundreds, pearls, emeralds, and 
rubies without number, and in one corner a huge 
and superb sapphire presented by a late grand 
duchess. The gold is fairly incrusted with these 
jewels, left in their original settings. Near by 
is another with ten large sapphires and as many 
good-sized emeralds. Nowhere have we seen 
such lavish and costly votive offerings of jewels 
as in the Eussian churches. The interior is also 
made martial by conquered battle-flags and the 
great keys of a large number of subjugated for- 
tresses, hanging upon brass panels ; so that 
visitors from Hamburg, Dresden, Leipsic, Utrecht, 
and Eheims can see their city and fortress keys 
displayed as trophies in a most ornamental man- 
ner. Somehow the interior does not look 
" churchly " nor even religious, although there is 
no limit to cost or spectacular effect. 

The Gallery or Museum of Peter the Great is 
without exception the most unique, dainty, and 
interesting of all the sights. The rooms devoted 
to this fascinating exhibit are in the Winter Pal- 
ace, but connected with and only approached from 
the Hermitage by a covered and inclosed bridge- 
like passage. The suite looks as if a long corri- 
dor, overlooking a court, had been divided into a 
succession of small rooms, each with a domed 
ceiling and with little chandeliers. The first 
bring that strange, gigantic character — Peter the 



32 IN ST. PETERSBURG. 

Great — vividly before one, for they contain a 
" collection of objects of art and industry, illus- 
trative of his life and activity." 

A versatile genius was Peter, to say the least. 
Strange things to associate with an emperor are 
the rude, well-used turning-lathes and tools for 
carving! Stranger still the specimen of his 
handiwork! His head evidently was never 
uneasy from wearing the crown. The eight-hour 
law would never have bound such a tireless, ener- 
getic digger and delver in all branches of knowl- 
edge. Mathematical instruments in great variety, 
telescopes by the dozen, and cases of books tell of 
mental as well as physical activity. His gigantic 
stature is impressed upon the visitor by an effigy, 
clad in a court dress of the period embroidered 
by Catherine I. for her coronation fetes. His 
heavy iron staff and sword suggest Goliath of old. 
Numerous casts and portraits of his face before 
and after death, several of his favorite dogs 
(stuffed), the horse he rode in battle, medals of 
important events during his reign, a great variety 
of coins, portraits of his "right-hand men," and a 
most amusing effigy of his housekeeper in Hol- 
land fill several rooms. In strange contrast with 
all the homely and matter-of-fact accessories of 
his life is an elaborate and open gilt chariot 
sometimes used by him. Russia does well to 
hoard these recollections of a strange, busy, and 



MUSEUM OF PETER THE GREAT. 33 

fruitful life, for she stands to-day because of his 
foundation. 

The other rooms are crowded with cabinets and 
cases, filled with the most choice and curious 
specimens of jewelry, silver, china, etc., all asso- 
ciated with successive sovereigns of Eussia, — a 
dazzling and most interesting display. One curi- 
ous structure is called a time-piece, but is more 
like a shrub six or eight feet high, with a superb 
and enormous peacock, a "rooster," an owl, grass- 
hoppers,' and a little of everything, all in brilliant 
colors. It is now broken; but we were assured 
that as the cock crowed the hour, the peacock 
expanded his beautiful tail, and the owl rolled up 
his eyes, and the grasshoppers, etc., ate the mush- 
rooms! "A case of small boxes, left by various 
sovereigns," gives no idea of the richness, deli- 
cacy, and costliness of the articles contained in 
it. One presented by a sultan of Turkey has his 
portrait in miniature encircled by superb dia- 
monds; another has a pathetic interest with its 
miniature of Marie Antoinette and her children, 
for it was given on the scaffold by Louis XVI. to 
his valet. All are wrought with the exquisite 
delicacy of a piece of jewelry, and are marvellous 
to behold. Then follow beautiful historical mini- 
atures, richly mounted in gold. A long gallery- 
like room had countless historical curiosities, 
knick-knacks and jewels, silver toilet-sets, rare 

VOL. II. — 3 



34 IN ST. PETERSBURG. 

Limoge enamelled dishes, carving in ivory, enor- 
mous pearls, salvers, caskets, and inkstands, 
silver filigree models and other articles, Japanese 
and Chinese gold and silver ornaments, exquisite 
crystal cups, precious stones, diamonds and rubies 
set in strange devices of parrots, bouquets, cas- 
kets, etc., and a superb service of tea china pre- 
sented to somebody or other by a king of Prussia. 
To give a better idea of the lavish profusion 
and the intrinsic costliness of this display we 
need only say that we counted eighty-seven superb 
enamelled and jewelled watches, many with 
unique and exquisite chatelaines, and sixty-nine 
delicate and beautiful snuff-boxes! And then the 
articles in glass, in exquisite gold filigree and in 
ivory, twisted and wrought into quaint and beau- 
tiful devices, are countless. Even such prosaic 
things as pocket-books and porte-monnaies are 
jewelled and adorned with miniatures and strange 
devices in gold and silver, and lie there as if 
they cost nothing. And finger-rings of all descrip- 
tions exhaust your last " oh ! " and " ah ! " One 
is filled with wonder that precious stones and 
metals can be shaped in such an infinite variety 
of forms of utility and ornament. Conspicuous 
among the silver was the huge and magnificent 
wine-tank, a reproduction of which graces the 
Metropolitan Museum in New York, and one 
looks as well as the other. 



MUSEUM OF PETER THE GREAT. 35 

It seems just like making a catalogue, to try to 
tell of the articles in a place like this, but only 
in this way can an idea be given of the extreme 
richness and intrinsic value of it. And to think 
that a succession of comparatively small rooms 
contains them all. Alas! the wealth that lies 
idle and tied up in the collections of St. Peters- 
burg and Moscow alone is enough to relieve the 
wants of an empire. It may be narrow and small, 
but one cannot help having some queer thoughts 
as he looks upon the extreme contrasts of Kussian 
life. 



THE HERMITAGE. 

The good people (and their name is legion) who 
so confidently affirm that there is not enough 
to see in Russia to pay for the trouble, fatigue, 
and expenditure of the trip, should be set 
down for a single day in the Hermitage, the 
magnificent repository of superb art treasures, 
which has scarcely a peer in all Europe. Many 
of the Continental museums contain simply "col- 
lections," and "collections " pure and simple 
cover a multitude of artistic sins. Anything 
from the jaws of the past finds room in their 
capacious maws, and some embryo Ruskin insists 
there is beauty in every piece. But here is a 
treasure-house, indeed, with scarce an object 
"common or unclean " or even mediocre, — and so 
beautifully housed! Only the accumulations of 
the matchless Pitti in Florence fare so sumptu- 
ously. The collections of the Louvre in Paris, 
the Belvedere in Vienna (now in new costly 
buildings), the Uffizi in Florence, and the 
National Gallery in London line the walls of 
regular museum buildings; but the Pitti and the 



THE GLORY OF ST. PETERSBURG. 37 

Hermitage have a palace, gorgeous and rich with 
regal purple and fine linen, all to themselves. 
And wonderfully "at home " and "to the manner 
born " do they seem! 

Adjoining and so connected by covered passage- 
ways with the great Winter Palace as to seem a 
part of it, this immense structure (375 by 573 
feet) in pure Greek style, of costly material and 
faultless workmanship, enclosing open courts, etc., 
stretches along and faces the Neva, in striking 
beauty and imposing magnificence. Its grand 
entrance is peculiar, being protected by a porch 
with massive roof, sustained by ten huge gray 
polished-granite figures, some twenty-two feet in 
height. Within, one scarcely knows which way 
to turn, — whether to mount at once the majestic 
and imposing staircase, with its array of princely 
and superb monolithic columns of granite and 
its richly polished balustrades of white Carrara 
marble, which leads to the " salons " where hang 
the seventeen hundred paintings, gems culled 
from a collection numbering four thousand; or to 
make the round of the numerous rooms upon the 
ground floor, with their rich and varied collec- 
tions of Greek and Koman sculpture, Scythian, 
Siberian, Oriental, and Eussian antiquities and 
relics, and countless articles of elegance and 
beauty. What a bewildering mass it is ! Antique 
statues and casts, fragments of Greek and Roman 



38 THE HERMITAGE. 

sculpture, vases and tazzas fill room after room. 
One superb tazza, or shallow bowl, of green 
jasper stands eight feet in height and with cir- 
cumference of fifty feet. There is here an 
intensely interesting collection of articles found 
in the Cimmerian Bosphorus, which attest the 
existence of Greek colonies along the north shore 
of the Black Sea fully six hundred years before 
Christ, — sarcophagi, figurines, vessels of silver, 
gold, and glass, toilet articles of ivory, decorated 
vases, jewelry of delicate design and exquisite 
workmanship, and articles of male and female 
adornment and attire. The gems and the richly 
worked articles of jewelry, bracelets, necklaces, 
etc., are marvellous in detail and design. A 
library, a collection of choicest engravings, an 
interesting lot of Pompeian trophies, drawings 
by the old masters, and a collection of Etruscan 
and Greek vases numbering thirteen hundred, 
"as fine as any in the world," constitute some of 
the attractions. There is also an invaluable array 
of exquisite arms and armors, silver, jewels, 
ivories, enamels, amber, and choice articles of 
"virtu," a collection transferred intact from the 
old palace of Tsarskoe Selo, a museum of itself. 
One large room is filled with arms, etc., richly 
enamelled and jewelled, presented by Eastern or 
Oriental potentates. One long case is filled with 
jewelled saddles, cloths, bridles, holsters, and all 



THE GLORY OF ST. PETERSBURG. 39 

sorts of horse-trappings, presented by the Sultan 
of Turkey in 1829 to Nicholas I. after the treaty 
of Adrianople. One saddle-cloth of delicate lilac 
velvet had an embroidered border, inwrought 
with small festoons and tassels of diamonds, 
pretty enough for a lady's bodice. The accom- 
panying stirrups were of gold, and every possible 
place in the set was studded with flashing dia- 
monds, some of goodly size. The two richest 
sets are valued at seventy-five thousand dollars. 
These, with sword-cases and swords, ablaze with 
brilliant and costly gems (presented to successive 
emperors), make a dazzling and glittering array. 
And then there are rooms with personal articles, 
— field-glasses, silver dishes, and toilet appliances 
taken from Napoleon in the Eussian retreats. 
Did we see all these things ? No ! we looked at 
them! To really see them, weeks and months 
would be consumed; but even a look is a memory 
of form and color, of magnificence and lavishness 
for a lifetime! 

Up and up the grand marble staircase so impos- 
ing and palatial, and, presto ! opening before you 
in breathless richness and magnificence are the 
picture and art galleries. Several devoted to the 
paintings are lofty and extensive, and are sump- 
tuously hung with crimson satin, a beautiful 
background for the priceless gems. Tall and 
magnificent vases, tazzas, and enormous cande* 



40 THE HERMITAGE. 

labra of malachite, lapis-lazuli, green and gray 
jasper, and lovely pink rhodenite, with trimmings 
of gorgeous ormolu, stand in all their glory of 
form and color through the centre; while mas- 
sive gold and antique dark wood furniture, chairs, 
lounges, etc., and tables with great slabs of pre- 
cious marbles, stand around the border of the 
rooms. The collection of paintings is unusually 
fine, and while there are some subjects one would 
part with, yet as works of art and specimens of 
the respective masters there is scarcely one that 
is not a gem. The charm of it is the hanging 
and grouping together in sumptuous apartments 
of such a large number of each respective artist's 
works, whereby the peculiar characteristics of 
composition, drawing, and color are accentuated, 
and can be better learned and judged than when, 
as is usual, they are separated and scattered all 
over various rooms. For instance, in the Span- 
ish rooms eighteen Murillos hang together, and 
his wondrous and delicious coloring makes a last- 
ing impression. Separately, it did not seem to us 
any were as fine as his Saint Anthony at Berlin, 
the Saint John at Vienna, or the Madonnas at the 
Pitti. In the centre is a lovely Eepose in Egypt, 
or Holy Family, with a mass of melting and 
glowing tints encircling the Divine babe. A 
lovely Saint John recalls vividly that of the Belvi- 
dere at Vienna, only the position of the lamb is 



THE GLORY OF ST. PETERSBURG. 41 

different and the guileless face not so beautiful. 
Two Assumptions quite suggest the famous 
Immaculate Conception in the Louvre, having 
the same golden indescribable glory about the 
head and face. Opposite hang six or eight por- 
traits by Velasquez, dark, rich, and mysterious 
in hue and expression. Another large room has 
glorious pictures by Tintoretto, Paul Veronese, 
Domenichino, the Caraccis, Carlo Maratta, Carlo 
Dolce, and Guido. Another has specimens of 
the Flemish school, with numerous portraits, 
etc., by Eubens and Van Dyck. Rubens' cele- 
brated portrait of his second wife, that we so 
often see in engravings as the "Chapeau de 
Paille," hangs here. His rose-leaf pinks are 
always a delight; his over-fat figures always a 
disgust! But Van Dyck, — one cannot get away 
from the indescribable charm of his portraits and 
their marvellous coloring and life-likeness. 

The Italian rooms are full of fine specimens, 
but are meagre compared with galleries we have 
seen. In one hangs Raphael's Madonna called 
the "Maison d'Alba," — a circular canvas with 
the Virgin, Infant Christ, and Saint John. It is 
like all of Raphael's pictures, full of "sweetness 
and light," with grace in every line. It is seri- 
ous and impressive in expression, for the Infant 
Christ seems already to know the meaning of the 
cross-suggested staff, and to be imparting it to 



42 THE HERMITAGE. 

the child Saint John; while the Virgin seems 
also to see the prophetic vision, and to feel 
already the sword entering her soul. One of the 
loveliest of the Italian school is a Holy Family 
by Andrea del Sarto, exquisite in color, and so 
natural in position and expression. In Rem- 
brandts the gallery is rich indeed. It is said 
that nowhere (not even in Holland) can he be 
studied as well as here, for every period and sub- 
ject of his rapidly changing style is illustrated by 
superb specimens and masterpieces. The familiar 
and often etched portrait of John III. Sobieski 
of Poland is here, and is a marvellous work. 
When one stands close to it, it looks like a daub. 
Three feet away, every line is as clear and dis- 
tinct as a Messonier. This collection alone is 
worth the journey. What a wonderful artist he 
was ! It may be heresy, but it seemed to as that 
the vigorous portraits of Rembrandt, Bal, Franz 
Hals, and Van Dyck are worth more from an 
artistic standpoint than all the dreamy, mystical 
pictures of the Italian schools. 

Other rooms are brilliant and fascinating, with 
pictures of the English, Dutch, German, French, 
and Eussian schools. The "Hobbema's," the 
''Cuyps," the " Wouvermans," and a wonderful 
dog by Paul Potter are simply exquisite. No 
wonder the collection is so fine, for it contains 
the gems of three celebrated galleries, — the 



THE GLORY OF ST PETERSBURG. 43 

Crozat, the Walpole, and the Malmaison of the 
Empress Josephine, to which have been added 
the best of the collection of Queen Hortense and 
several titled connoisseurs, with here and there 
some choice work picked up at the occasional 
great sales. And as if this was not enough, there 
is a numismatic collection, and one long noble 
room filled with fifty or more superb cases con- 
taining a bewildering collection of engraved gems 
and cameos, "one of the largest in existence," all 
appropriately and richly mounted in gold, and 
displayed most satisfactorily. It comprises the 
"cabinet of the Duke of Orleans purchased by 
Catherine II., " with each gem set in dull or 
deadened gold. There are exquisite cameos pre- 
sented by Josephine and other sovereigns, — a 
most bewitching display, for every one, modern 
or antique, bears the closest inspection and 
examination. 

But hold! is not all this enough to explain 
why some of the happiest hours of an extensive 
European tour were passed in these enchanted 
halls ? And when all was done, and the hour of 
our departure drew nigh, was it a wonder that 
we turned away from the old city for an hour's 
stroll through them, to say a long and last 
"good-by"? In other galleries and cities the 
feeling that we might some day come again was 
strong and comforting within us ; but here we felt 



44 THE HERMITAGE. 

that never again would these mortal eyes of ours 
loot upon and revel in this the crowning glory of 
St. Petersburg ; and so we turned away with a 
genuine "feeling of sadness and longing/' which 
was wonderfully "akin to pain." 



PETEEHOF. 

One sunny morning, taking a small handsome 
steamer, we passed rapidly down the gradually 
widening Neva, and came ere long into the broad 
expanse of the Gulf of Finland, whose low-lying 
verdant shores sparkling with occasional gleam 
of gilded dome or roof, and whose distant islands 
and fortifications and forest of shipping of far- 
away Cronstadt glistening in the sunlight, 
presented a beautiful scene. At the end of an 
hour and a quarter we reached the wharf at 
Peterhof. 

There is here quite a village, and embosomed 
in the trees numerous villas occupied in summer 
by the wealthy classes 5 a very extensive park, 
miles in extent, which our courier declared it 
was " impossybeel " to drive through in " von 
day; " a magnificent palace begun in 1720 by 
Peter the Great ; and full a mile away the gleam- 
ing roofs and towers of Alexandria, the private 
residence of the Czar, where the court always 
assembles at midsummer. 



46 PETERHOR 

Taking a landau at the wharf, we drove to the 
lower park, which skirts the shore of the inland 
sea. Although perfectly level, it is densely and 
skilfully planted with a great variety of decidu- 
ous and evergreen trees, so that with the 
long straight paths, carriage and bridle roads, 
stretching away through the woods to immense 
distances, forming vistas of breathless and exqui- 
site beauty, a constant change of scene and effect 
is given. One moment we were in a dandelion- 
starred open field ; the next between wild cherry- 
trees in full bloom, simulating immense snow- 
drifts ; or by great forest trees or superb balsams, 
with constantly the long cool vistas radiating in 
every direction, and often terminating with a 
statue or picturesque summer-house, or giving 
glimpses of the old palace, with its golden domes, 
upon a terrace sixty feet above, with curious 
water-works and fountains. 

As we drove along, entertained with the 
outlook, we came suddenly upon Marly, the 
celebrated and favorite resort of Peter the Great, 
— a square villa, with double mansard roof, f ac • 
ing an extensive oblong artificial fish-pond, and 
overlooking at the rear a large semicircular mir- 
ror-like pool, with three bridges, radiating like 
the spokes of a wheel. Alas! the " spring clean- 
ing," whitewashing, etc., that has seemed to be 
going on everywhere since we left Venice (which 



THE VERSAILLES OF RUSSIA. 47 

never knows such an experience) was here in full 
blast, and consequently the pretty little villa was 
in disorder. The furniture and square-bottom 
high back chairs were not unlike the old Dutch 
bits we gather with such avidity at home. The 
little kitchen was tastefully and entirely lined 
with blue-and- white Dutch tiles. In his bed- 
room, which was hung with chintz, we saw his 
bed, writing-table, etc., and a blue -and- white 
brocade dressing-gown, presented to him by the 
Shah of Persia. It was an attractive house, and 
the outlook from doors and windows so lovely 
that a body would not mind having it for the 
summer. In some of the rooms were "ikons," 
so small and so inconspicuously placed as easily 
to be unnoticed. Yet any failure to at least lift 
the hat would have given great offence and genu- 
ine shock. As we passed out the old custodian 
stepped to the edge of the pond, rang a bell, and 
for our amusement fed the carp, which rose in 
great numbers. 

A little way farther on we came to the Hermi- 
tage, a pretty little villa near the seashore, 
surrounded by a moat, which was a favorite resort 
of Catherine II. Here too the " spring cleaning" 
was in progress, and confusion reigned. The 
dining-room was in the second story, and con- 
tained a most curious arrangement, — an oval 
table so constructed that every dish could be 



48 PETERHOF. 

changed and served from the room below, thus 
avoiding the presence of an attendant who could 
hear everything that was said, It was covered 
with a white cloth, upon which lay fifteen plates 
and centre-pieces. When they were to be 
changed, a little cord in front of each one, coiv 
necting with small bells below, was pulled. 
Then a servant in the lower room drew the plate 
down (which rested upon a tiny trap door) and 
replaced it with the next course. In like manner 
the centre-pieces were changed also. The table- 
cloth, of course, was cut and fitted. We saw the 
apparatus below, which was very curious and 
amusing. The same thing can be seen in the 
apartments of Frederick the Great at Sans Souci, 
near Berlin. So close to the gulf shore and with 
the charming background of the park, the little 
villa was a lovely picture. 

We drove along until we came to Montplasir, 
a long, low, Dutch summer-house built also in 
the reign of Peter the Great. As we stopped 
before the inclosure and looked at the large geo- 
metrically laid-out flower-garden, with the whole 
length faced by a red-and-white pavilion, with 
long low glass corridors connecting it with ser- 
vants' houses, which lined either side, it was all 
so stiff, quaint, and old-fashioned that it seemed 
like a bit of Holland dropped in the heart of the 
Russian empire. The long pavilion has a large 



THE VERSAILLES OF RUSSIA. 49 

central apartment, the entire height of two stories, 
— a quaint and attractive room, with a row of 
windows and doors opening upon a charming 
balustraded terrace looking off upon the blue and 
flashing waters of the gulf. There were several 
other rooms, with rolling and easy chairs, slip- 
pers and other mementos of Peter, and some 
lovely cups, saucers, and jars of old China, which 
fill the wayfaring man with envy. One curious 
Chinese room was lined with richly lacquered 
panels and brackets, with a multitude of tiny 
cups, saucers, vases, etc. 

Leaving this little gem, we drove to the terrace 
above the park, upon which stands the old Royal 
Palace, begun by Peter the Great, and added to 
by a long line of succeeding sovereigns. But the 
original style is unchanged, and the color (a sort 
of pinkish salmon with white trimmings) the 
same as in his day. The palace is a long, appar- 
ently two-story and basement structure, with a 
chapel at either end. One of them has a large 
central and four small Oriental domes and roof of 
solid silver, the domes and ornaments being heav- 
ily gilded. It is dazzling and gorgeous, to say 
the least. But a more charming interior we 
have rarely seen. We passed upstairs, and were 
ushered into a great square central room, the 
entire walls of which were covered with a patch- 
work of painted heads or portraits (three hun- 

VOL. II. — 4 



50 PETERHOF. 

dred and sixty) of various sizes, said to illustrate 
the costumes and styles of beauty of some fifty 
of the provinces of Kussia, all painted for 
Catherine II. by one artist. The effect was very 
odd, although many were very beautiful. The 
collection made for her is said to number eight 
hundred and sixty -three; and the variety of 
positions, expressions, and costumes is certainly 
very remarkable. 

From this we walked leisurely through some 
thirty apartments, ten or twelve of which in a 
row were drawing or reception rooms of medium 
and comfortable size, with walls hung with beau- 
tiful cream-white, crimson, pale-blue, yellow, 
and green brocaded satin and delicate tinted and 
embroidered china silks. The finishings of the 
room, such as door-frames, etc., were flamboyant 
with great spreading ornaments, richly gilded, 
which we would call "steamboaty," but which 
added much to the gorgeous and sumptuous effect. 
All the Russian palaces seem a strange combina- 
tion of refinement and semi-barbarism in their 
fittings and ornamentation. The furniture here 
stood with droll precision in a straight row 
around the rooms, and was of gold, enamel, or 
rich dark woods. In several of them hung full- 
length portraits of various maids of honor, some 
dancing or playing upon instruments, but all in 
a merry laughing mood, and exceedingly dainty 



THE VERSAILLES OF RUSSIA. 51 

and pretty. All through the rooms were scat- 
tered lavishly many choice bits of old furniture, 
— exquisite mantels, with mirror frames all of 
painted porcelain as dainty as a vase, tall and 
low clocks, beautiful tapestries, magnificent 
tazzas of porcelain, malachite, and rich marbles, 
paintings, and rare bric-a-brac. The truth is, 
one is dazed and bewildered by the unlimited 
expenditure in the Russian palaces. 

Parallel with these rooms are several suites 
of sleeping, dressing, and sitting rooms, only 
used when royal visitors are entertained. They 
are exquisitely furnished, and with their satin 
and cretonne-covered walls, rich carpetings, 
draperies, and every conceivable decorative and 
toilet articles, are marvels of beauty and refine- 
ment. The sleeping-room, occupied two years ago 
by the present Emperor William of Germany, 
was profusely hung with white brocade satin, 
and had a superb cheval glass with porcelain 
frame, delicately painted, with toilet parapher- 
nalia to correspond. Their suites were cozy and 
"liveable," and possessed an air of refinement 
not found in the larger ones. All commanded 
lovely outlooks upon the surrounding park. 

Eeturning to the portrait-room, we passed into 
the grand state apartments, all two stories in 
height, and fairly riotous with costly and mag- 
nificent but not always tasteful ornamentation. 



52 PETERHOF. 

They seem so fond of gold, for it is used literally 
by the rod! But that was a peculiarity of the 
age in which the palace was built. Perhaps 
nowadays just as much gold would be used, 
but certainly in a more refined and less bizarre 
method. A large concert-room was lined with 
white relievos upon delicately tinted grounds. 
Ante-rooms were in white and gold; and a superb 
ball-room was a blaze of gold and dazzle of 
white, enriched by crimson draperies. But the 
royal banqueting-hall was ornamentation and 
gold "run mad." Everywhere upon the walls 
of the immense apartment were flowing orna- 
ments, running like a wild growth, all richly 
gilded, and having often a mirror for a back- 
ground. And yet with all this fabulous expendi- 
ture there was no real beauty. From the central 
window a lovely vista is obtained through the 
woods, clear out to the sea, beginning with a 
succession of terraces profusely ornamented with 
gilded statues, fountains, cascades, and flower- 
borders, beyond which is a watercourse like a 
canal, with graceful marble-basined fountains at 
intervals upon either side. It has a most festive 
and fairy-like appearance. 

We drove for an hour in the park in the rear 
of the palace, passing at first numerous attendant 
buildings, in one of which like an extensive 
china warehouse was the china, etc., used at 



THE VERSAILLES OF RUSSIA. 53 

royal balls and banquets, arranged upon shelves 
to the ceiling, and in each window a tall epergne, 
all richly decorated. We came to a little lake, 
and crossing by a raft to a pretty island, visited 
a sort of classic and Pompeian tea-house. It 
was daintiness itself, with its profusion of small 
bronzes, pretty interior court, with its fountain 
and little porches and terraces where one could 
sit and dream for hours, with the loveliest out- 
look imaginable in every direction, over pretty 
waters and shady park. Upon this island is an 
oak raised from an acorn from "George Wash- 
ington's home," which the plate attached says 
"was presented to Nicholas I., 1838, by George 
Sumner" (a brother of Charles). W"e took off 
our hats; for this memento of our immortal 
Washington, way off in this far-away land, was 
thrilling. The park seemed with its drives, its 
hills and dales, its variety of buildings, well- 
nigh endless. As far as we could see all was 
"park," and beyond it were the blue waters, 
over which, somewhat wearied with splendor, 
we passed rapidly at the close of the day to St. 
Petersburg. 



TSAKSKOE SELO. 

"What under the sun is Tsarskoe Selo?" says 
one. And no wonder, for without a knowledge 
of Russ the words give no more suggestion of 
their meaning ("the Czar's village") than their 
pronunciation (" Sarko Sel-low ") does of the 
name itself. Yet it is not the Czar's village 
that one goes out on a railway journey of an hour 
from St. Petersburg "for to see/' but the czar's 
favorite summer palace. He possesses the im- 
mense Winter Palace, which took us two hours 
to walk through ; lovely Peterhof with its large 
and smaller residences ; Tsarskoe Selo with its 
wilderness of apartments, and Gatchina with its 
six hundred rooms, where he resides now most 
of the time; to say nothing of smaller palaces, 
Moscow, etc., and the year is only twelve months 
long. A man, however, is not to be blamed for 
his inheritance. It was a pleasant journey in 
cars quite like our own American conveyances. 
We had a " Commissionaire " of course ; one 
cannot get along with the jaw-breaking language 
and eye-bewildering alphabet of Russia without 



TSARSKOE SELO. 55 

such a companion. We chanced to have a man 
who for years was attached to the American 
legation, a bright, gentlemanly fellow. We sug- 
gested his holding the tickets lest we should 
lose them. "I navare lose any think," he replied, 
"except — my first wife; and I feel so bad." 

It was a good ten minutes' drive from the 
station to the old palace, but through wide hand- 
some streets lined with tasteful and pretty villas 
and cottages, the summer residences of the wealthy 
classes of St. Petersburg. They were so won- 
derfully like our seaside resorts or pretty country 
towns that we did not feel far away. Some idea 
of the extent and importance of the Eoyal pos- 
session can be gained from the fact that the park 
is some eighteen miles in circumference, with 
woods of larch and birch, handsome gateways, 
and immediately around the palaces superb and 
lovely gardens. Originally a zoological garden, 
etc., of the marvellous Peter the Great, it became 
a royal residence in time of Catherine L, but 
was brought to its present magnificence through 
the care of that man in draperies, Catherine II. 

We drove directly to the old palace, little 
dreaming of the surprise and magnificence that 
awaited us ; for compared with the apartments 
of this, everything we have seen in Europe must 
"pale its ineffectual fires." The structure of 
white, with green-bronze gilt ornaments, stretches 



56 TSARSKOE SELO. 

away with a facade of seven hundred and eighty 
feet, broken by porches and slight projections, 
upheld by enormous caryatides or "hermes." 
Originally every capital, base, and ornament 
was covered with solid gold. The state apart- 
ments are in a straight line along the front of 
the palace, so that one stands at either end, 
and looks through a vista of golden glittering 
doorways a distance of seven hundred and eighty 
feet. The private rooms are in parallel suites, 
but overlook the forests and park. One's supply 
of adjectives and ejaculations fairly gives out, 
as room after room, all ablaze with unlimited 
gold and colors and superb painted ceilings, are 
visited. The furniture too is all so very beauti- 
ful, the old Chinese and modern porcelains so 
rare and choice, and the tables, etc., of priceless 
lapis-lazuli and malachite so wonderful! Every- 
thing is as fresh and clean as if the czar was 
expected in a few hours. Nowhere have we seen 
such profusion of odd and beautiful furniture, 
or such a really choice collection of porcelain; 
and we had time enough to see everything 
fully, — a rare experience. 

We began with the chapel at one end, — an 
immense and lofty affair, the walls of which 
were entirely in dark blue, with profusion of 
gilded ornaments. We saw it from the room 
in the second story, where the emperor and 



TSARSKOE SELO. 57 

empress stand, which overlooks the whole inte- 
rior. Then we passed slowly through lovely 
rooms, large and small, — boudoirs, etc., with 
hangings of cretonne, Japanese silk, and damasks ; 
a dining-room with pale green stucco; a recep- 
tion-room with hangings of white satin and gold, 
paintings, malachite ornaments, and huge porce- 
lain stoves reaching to the lofty ceiling; one 
with imitation tortoise-shell panels, and another 
in silver and blue; one pure white, with immense 
buffets laden with a dozen peerless Chinese jars 
and plaques, and another white and gold with 
choicest porcelains, and others with columns of 
gold, rich wood finishings, superb Russian vases, 
all bewildering in size, decorations, costly bronz* 
ings, and priceless bric-a-brac. 

Three rooms, however, surpass all others we 
have ever seen. One is an immense apartment, 
lofty and square, with side walls covered with 
thin sheets of " amber " in a sort of crazy-quilt 
or hit-or-miss pattern, producing a soft, mot- 
tled, and pleasing appearance. Upon this at 
regular intervals are fitted engraved metal mould- 
ings, forming panels. The amber is so fitted 
over these that the glitter of the silver and the 
pattern of the design show through. The cor- 
ners are finished with exquisite ornaments carved 
out of different shades of amber as finely as if 
for personal adornment. Large Florentine mosaic 



58 TSARSKOE SELO. 

pictures are fitted in these panels. Mouldings, 
cornices, and profuse ornaments about the room, 
are all richly carved and polished. The Eussian 
Arms appear in the wainscoting, while above 
the cornice is a frieze of mottled effect, upon 
which are a large number of golden candle- 
brackets. In each window stands a large glass 
cabinet filled with boxes, etc., of various colored 
and wrought amber. Slender mirrors are in- 
serted at intervals in the walls. The effect is 
very lovely and pleasing, for the combined tints 
are so mellow and delicious. The amber was 
presented by Frederick the Great of Prussia to 
Catherine II., and very appropriately in the 
centre of the room stands a miniature model of 
the Berlin statue, etc., of Frederick. 

Another is the famous "Lapis-lazuli" room, 
which is, without exception, the most superb 
and magnificent apartment we have seen any- 
where. The stone is found in Russia, and never 
in large pieces, and is very costly. The color 
is so exquisite one never tires of it, as of mala- 
chite. It varies in tints, some being light, but 
generally it is of a rich deep-blue, with flecks 
and streaks of lighter hue and of gold. It is of 
course incrusted work, the stone being sawed 
in very thin slices and applied to walls, slabs, 
etc. The room is oblong, and of beautiful pro- 
portions. Cornice, frieze, and wainscot, etc., are 



TSARSKOE SELO. 59 

all of bands of the precious stone in alternate 
shades, held in place by narrow mouldings of 
gold. In two corners are chimneys, with man- 
telpieces and mirror frames, all of the lovely 
stone with delicate ormolu trimmings. At each 
end, skilfully blended with the whole design, 
are cherubs in white marble upholding ormolu 
candelabra, — a combination of color, gold, glass, 
and marble indescribably charming and refined. 
The doors are like polished rosewood, inlaid 
with mother-of-pearl; while the floor is in a 
rich floriated mosaic of ebony and other costly 
woods, with mother-of-pearl flowers and rosettes. 
Pendant from the centre of the ceiling is an 
immense chandelier, entirely of delicately, ex- 
quisitely wrought ormolu and lapis-lazuli. It 
hangs a great graceful mass of lovely blue and 
gold, as if floating in the air, — a marvel of 
design and workmanship. Unlike most palatial 
halls, the furniture stood out in groups all over 
the room, with a variety of coverings and tables 
of ormolu and lapis-lazuli to carry the tone 
through all. Nothing could be more rich, refined, 
and exquisite than the general air and expres- 
sion of this room, for it was a harmony, a 
symphony in color, a triumph of design, and 
an "apotheosis" of Kussia's choicest mineral 
production. 

The other room was the Chinese Drawing- 



60 TSARSKOE SELO. 

room, — a very long two-storied hall-like apart- 
ment, with side Avails covered with panels of 
gayly decorated lacquer, all fitly joined together 
by scarlet, gold, and black mouldings. Small 
lacquered tables, chairs, screens, and pedestals, 
with enormous jars and lovely etageres covered 
with vases, etc., fill the room. Everywhere 
there is some priceless jar or plaque ; and 
although it is a mass of glossy black, fiery 
scarlet, and gold, and of floral and figure decora- 
tion, it is harmonious and pleasing. 

A gorgeous ball-room one hundred and eighty 
feet long, a blaze of solid gold, crystal chande- 
liers for forty-eight hundred candles, mirrors, 
and rich draperies, and several other large 
rooms, beautifully decorated with central rows 
of jasper, malachite, and other precious Russian 
stones, vases, and tazzas, completed the list. 
In one was a sort of toboggan slide, of richly 
polished wood, with prettily railed stairway to 
one side. Seated upon velvet rug-like cushions, 
one could slide quietly some thirty to fifty feet. 

We were extremely fortunate in seeing the 
private rooms parallel with these, as they are not 
often shown. There were bedrooms, boudoirs, 
and dressing-rooms in suites, hung in white satin 
and gold, Japanese embroidered silks and lovely 
brocades, with exquisite furniture, dainty knick- 
knacks, and a few fine pictures. Those of Alex- 



TSARSKOE SELO. 61 

ander L, who died in the north in a peasant's 
cottage, look as if just vacated; for his boots 
and slippers stand behind his iron camp bed- 
stead, his cap lies on a chair, his toilet articles 
are spread out upon a dressing-table, and his 
shaving-glass and handkerchief lie near by. All 
these private rooms are charming in color, deco- 
rations, and furnishings, and look as if they 
could be lived in. 

At the extreme end of the palace is a dainty 
suite of small rooms, used by the late empress, 
for years an invalid. From these one is ushered 
upon an elevated terrace overlooking a beautiful 
undulating part of the park, in English style, 
with great masses of shrubbery here and there 
upon a lovely lake. It was tranquillizing and 
restful. Upon this terrace was a "tea-house' 7 
with small rooms at either end and a long one 
between, with exquisite ceiling and rows of 
marble columns. One of the small rooms was 
lined with polished red marble with delicate 
trimmings of ormolu, all finished as finely and 
minutely as a clock or set of mantel ornaments. 
Beyond this, also upon the terrace, was a long 
classic building (four hundred and twenty feet), 
— a summer banqueting-hall surrounded by a 
colonnade of marble columns, with between them 
fine bronze replicas of celebrated busts and statu- 
ary. The colonnade was simply charming, for 



62 TSARSKOE SELO. 

it was lifted high above and looked off upon 
verdant knolls and quiet waters. No wonder 
this end of the palace, this terrace and tea- 
house, have been the favorite resting-places of 
successive empresses. 

We went downstairs and passed through the 
study, library, uniform and military trophy- 
rooms of the late emperor Alexander II. They 
were full of arms, miniature models of soldiers, 
etc. War, war, everywhere! But some rooms 
were full of photographs of his family. The 
writing-materials, knick-knacks, etc., were all 
placed as naturally as if just left. We passed 
through some fifty to sixty rooms, many of which 
were wild, riotous, and barbaric in glitter, gor- 
geousness, and lavish expenditure, and we were 
tired! After driving for some five or ten 
minutes, we walked through the New Palace, the 
home of the Crown Prince. The rooms are 
large and handsome, but everything as modern 
as at one of our palatial hotels. The wind came 
up keen and cold, and a short drive in the park, 
with its multitude of lovely vistas, flowering 
shrubs, etc., quite satisfied us, and we gladly 
turned our faces toward St. Petersburg again. 



Russian "Cabby. 



A CHANGE OF BASE. 

All tourists are subject to periodical attacks 
of economy. Blessed is he who, acting under 
this hallucination, makes no exasperating or 
egregious mistakes. You can go from St. Peters- 
burg to Moscow in fourteen or eighteen hours, as 
you like. By taking the slower train we found 
we would have the same cars, more hours of 
daylight on the road, see more of the country, 
and save our money. And so we left at half- 
past three one afternoon, and at 9.30 the next 
morning rolled into "Holy Moscow." 

The Nicholas Bailway is a fine one, built by 
Winans, of Baltimore, for the Emperor Nicholas, 
at an enormous cost. It is a standard joke that 
some prominent Englishman asked a royal visitor 
if he had seen the old contract for the Nicholas 
Kailway; for if not, he had missed the greatest 
curiosity in Russia. It brought Winans a for- 
tune, for every proviso piled on additional dol- 
lars; but Bussia as a result has a first-class 
railway. The survey was shown the emperor. 
He asked, "Why build so long and irregular a 



64 A CHANGE OF BASE. 

road ?" They replied, "Because of the towns." 
He called for a map, and with a rule drew a 
straight line from St. Petersburg to Moscow, 
saying, "There is the survey." "But what will 
become of the towns? " they asked. "The towns 
may come to the railway," he said; for fighting 
old emperor that he was, like all the rest of 
them, he cared only for " rapid transit " for his 
troops in case of need. 

We had a very handsome "sleeper," much 
more comfortable than the ones from Berlin. 
There was little to see. Miles and miles of 
cultivated and half-cleared level land, with 
rarely anything but slight undulations, but all 
so green and fresh; acres of balsams and birches 
and pretty linemen's houses all the way. The 
station-houses were unusually large and hand- 
some, with pretty gardens and fine dining-rooms 
and restaurants. Frequently when the train 
stopped, boys would come with great glasses or 
tumblers of tea, and biscuits. 

You will never know what tea is until you go 
to Russia. The Russians seem as inveterate 
tea-drinkers as the English, but theirs is a 
very different article. Everywhere is seen the 
"Samovar," which insures boiling water, which 
is poured over the tea, and immediately it is 
ready. Then you have none of the dark, acrid, 
bitter decoction which in nine places out of ten 



ON TO MOSCOW. 65 

in Europe is served under this name, but a clear, 
brilliant, amber liquid, fragrant and enticing, 
"fit for the Gods." They contend also that the 
tea., having been brought overland, is more deli- 
cate in flavor, and that the long sea-voyage and 
confinement in clammy holds of vessels destroy 
the aroma. Be this as it may, it is a fact that 
at hotels, cafes, and along the railroads the 
beverage is uniformly delicious, while elsewhere 
it is rarely palatable. Everywhere the people 
may be seen drinking it, when not pulling at 
vodka, the vile native whiskey. They say that 
when the Apostles were sent out without any- 
thing, the one who was a Eussian came back and 
asked if he could not take a little tea. 

As we had arranged to visit for a few days 
in the country an English friend who had resided 
in Russia some thirty years or more, we did not 
stop in Moscow, but went immediately to another 
station a few blocks awa} r . As we drew near, 
there was evidently "something in the air." A 
great crowd was assembled, and through a long 
space kept open were laid beautiful scarlet car- 
pets, from the curb to within the entrance. 
"Heigh ho!" we said, "we are going to see the 
czar!" A few moments later an open carriage 
drew up, with two gentlemen in uniform, and 
then one with two ladies; and we learned that it 
was the Grand Duke Sergius, brother of the czar 

VOL. II. — 5 



66 A CHANGE OF BASE. 

and governor of Moscow, and his retinue "going 
up to the temple/' or rather the monastery of 
Troitsa some fifty miles away, to pray! Gen- 
tlemen in evening dress and military uniform 
were moving quickly about. We were permitted 
to stand by a window overlooking the platform 
and train. Along the length of the platform 
was laid a pale-blue carpet, dainty enough for 
a boudoir. It was impossible to look at this 
pageant, — all these scarlet and blue covered 
walks, this sumptuous train, this army of gold- 
laced and uniformed officials hurrying to and 
fro, this gayly-attired court going up to the 
temple to pray, — and not think of the command, 
" When thou prayest enter into thy closet," and 
of the poor fellow who scarcely dared to lift his 
eyes with his "God be merciful to me a sinner! " 
For an hour after leaving, we passed through 
a lovely country, almost every station showing 
a number of pretty summer villas. Richly 
dressed ladies and children awaited the trains, 
— the ladies invariably without bonnets, but 
often with handsome lace scarfs and elegant 
parasols. We left the train at Pushkin, between 
twenty and thirty miles from Moscow. A car- 
riage awaited us, and we drove by a perfectly 
smooth road across a beautifully undulating 
country highly cultivated, a stretch of living 
green, a distance of sixteen miles. Away over 



ON TO MOSCOW. 67 

a sweep of miles we would see a gold-crested 
dome or tower, or the roofs and tall chimneys 
of manufactories, or the gleam of villages. 

Our friend was in charge of a large cotton - 
mill belonging to a company. The grounds 
were extensive, with a fine villa and garden for 
the "Master," residences for the physician and 
overseer, a hospital, a school for five hundred 
children, large buildings for employees, shops, 
and a beautiful Greek church. Some fifteen 
hundred hands were employed, and the mills 
were fine and extensive. As we stood by the 
bales of American cotton we felt we were citi- 
zens of no mean country. It seemed strange 
that this cotton from New Orleans should be 
carded and cleaned, twisted and reeled, and 
finally be turned out in sheetings and cotton 
cloth way off here in Russia. Across the road 
from the company's enclosure is a beautiful 
pine forest, with wide winding paths and seats 
and summer-houses, a most restful and lovely 
retreat. The trees are very straight and tall, 
and the bark takes some way from the ground 
a very reddish, metallic tint, which is exquisite 
as the sunlight slants through the green thickets. 
The ground is cleared of underbrush, and is very 
park-like. All through the turf are thousands 
of our little lilies of the valley growing wild; 
small wild-flowers dot the grass all along the 
public highways; large and tall dandelions, 



68 A CHANGE OF BASE. 

yellow anemones, Johnny-jump-ups, violets, but- 
tercups, and a host of tiny blue, white, and 
purple flowers are everywhere. In the lovely 
pine-woods the nightingales whistle and the 
cuckoo sings. Along the fields occasionally a 
lark soars away, and gray crows (with gray 
bodies and black wings) sing the same delight- 
ful monotone as with us. 

On Sunday afternoon we visited a serf -village 
in the neighborhood. It was very picturesque, 
with its green-sward streets, and quaint log-houses 
with thatched roofs; but like the Swiss chalets 
at Andermatt "distance lends enchantment to 
the view." The serfs own the land their houses 
are built upon, and have also allotted to them 
a certain amount to cultivate ; but somehow there 
does not seem much development or future for 
them. They grow wheat and buckwheat, but 
use the most comical and primitive ploughs and 
tools. What is worse, they do not want any of 
the modern inventions. They are more to be 
pitied than our southern colored population, for 
literally nothing is done to elevate, educate, or 
develop them. They look so stupid and numb. 

We went into two of the houses, — one of 
the best, the other of the poorest. The latter 
was dreadful! One corner of the structure was 
partitioned off in two rooms for the human, and 
the rest given up to the domestic, creatures. In 
the stalls the horses and cattle live in the midst 



ON TO MOSCOW. 69 

of their excrements, which are never cleaned out 
except upon a certain day in the year! The 
rooms had a bench all round, a table, and a few 
rude chairs. One bench or bed was high up 
against the oven; another was on top of it; and 
still another was like a shelf, close to the ceiling. 
The other house was large, and divided into 
summer and winter apartments, with a bed alcove 
neatly curtained, and the windows draped, and 
the whole interior furnished with planed boards, 
and having rude prints and showy gilt "ikons," 
hanging profusely around. 

They do not work on Sundays, so all the vil- 
lagers were standing in picturesque groups about 
the houses. They are very fond of red, and wear 
very comical waists and full-skirted coats of 
skins, with fur trimming inside! About forty 
children followed us around, and probably were 
as much entertained as we were. The men all 
wear their hair alike, having it cut exactly as 
if a bowl was fitted on the head and the line of 
edge followed by shears. 

These characteristic sights are intensely inter- 
esting, but equally painful. One cannot but feel 
that a fearful and almost difficult problem is to 
be solved and worked out in Russia. And, 
alas! they need that which they are the least 
likely to receive, — education, enlightenment, 
and uplifting! 



HOLY MOSCOW. 

In visiting Russia, one naturally looks for the 
picturesque, novel, and characteristic, and so 
may in a certain sense be disappointed in St. 
Petersburg, because, while beautiful, it is so 
regular and modern. But in Moscow, the "Holy 
City " of the Greek Church, no such emotion or 
wave of trouble rolls across the traveller's 
peaceful breast. As the waves of the sea surge 
round and beat against a great solitary rock, 
so these undulations, like great waves, rise and 
fall round the grand central group of gilded 
domes and stately Ivan tower, within the high- 
encircling and battlemented walls of the renowned 
Kremlin. 

As a sight Moscow is unique. Its streets are 
narrow and crooked, opening frequently into 
small irregular plazas. The demolition of two 
encircling lines of fortifications makes possible, 
as in several of the large European capitals, 
the opening of fine wide boulevards. But the 
universal pavement is the exasperating, mad- 
dening cobble-stone; and the Jehus drive the 






HOLY MOSCOW. 71 

little low-wheeled vehicles "like all possessed," 
until every bone and nerve cry out for vengeance. 
Again and again have fire and sword devas- 
tated it; and in the rebuilding, palaces jostle 
against hovels, and a magnificent mansion with 
Corinthian colonnades may be close to the white- 
washed house of a common citizen. Hence a 
continual surprise is afforded as one drives 
through the streets, or standing upon some 
elevation "views the prospect o'er." Some four 
hundred churches and chapels, with gayly col- 
ored and profusely gilded domes and towers, 
give to every outlook a most picturesque feature. 
The river Moskva bends through the city, and 
from the bridges which span it some of the most 
pleasing views are obtained. One is kept upon 
the qui vive constantly in the streets, between 
the droll-looking people from the provinces, the 
drosky drivers who implore constantly "please 
to ride," and the numerous chapels. 

Close to the Kremlin is a large double passage- 
way city-gate (called the " Resurrection ") to the 
Kitai Gorod, or Chinese city. It is a large 
building, with two carriageways, principally 
interesting because between them upon the city 
side is the most characteristic sight of the place, 
— a small square one-story chapel, which shel- 
ters a miraculous and much revered "ikon," 
called the "Iberian Mother of God," brought 



72 HOLY MOSCOW. 

from Mt. Athos in 1648. It is felt to possess 
wonderful powers, and is carried (at large ex- 
pense, of course) to the bedside of the sick, to 
the opening of new houses, and to w r edding 
festivities. The little chapel is covered with 
gold, and has numerous beautiful hanging lamps 
and candelabra. Over the head of the Virgin 
(a dark and hideous face) is a magnificent crown 
of diamonds, etc., and a net of large pearls. 
Enormous brooches and other pieces of rich 
jewelry of fabulous worth are fastened here and 
there. The revenue is very large, part of it 
forming the stipend of the Metropolitan, or 
Bishop of Moscow. When the emperor visits 
the city he always drives first to this shrine 
and pays his devotions. It is crowded at all 
hours. Outside, a long line of nuns in black 
hold out flat cloth-covered square plates, em- 
broidered with a cross, for contributions. It is 
curious to watch the crowd of droskies, carriages, 
and pedestrians, for drivers and all take off their 
hats and bow and cross themselves, at least three 
times. When a service is conducted before a 
picture, repeated obeisance made to it, and at 
the close the multitude are encouraged to kneel 
before and kiss it, it can be called by no other 
name than idolatry. With this view of it, the 
evident sincerity and unmistakable devotion of 
the people is pitiable, for in Moscow so many 



HOLY MOSCOW. 73 

pilgrims, the poorest and most ignorant from 
the rural districts, are seen, all intent upon 
paying devotions and seeing the sacred places 
of their holy city. 

One afternoon we drove to the Sparrow Hills, 
a thickly wooded ridge across the river, two or 
three miles to the southwest of the city, which 
command a magnificent view. From this point 
Napoleon and his disheartened and well-nigh 
exhausted legions first looked upon Holy Moscow, 
— a glittering city literally at their feet, for it 
was evacuated by the Eussians without a blow 
being struck in its defence. But the most thrill- 
ing sacrifice of modern history occurred as he 
entered the Kremlin the next day, for the city 
was fired in eleven different places by the people. 
As we drove across the river bridge we had the 
most comprehensive and picturesque view of 
the Kremlin obtainable, for all others are so 
fragmentary. 

The Kremlin is to Moscow what the Acropolis 
is to Athens. It burst upon us like a revela- 
tion. Above the verdure and foliage of the 
Alexander gardens at the base of the Kremlin 
hill rose the red flower-like battlement of the 
walls, broken by varied and picturesque towers 
at frequent intervals, and beyond, the great 
regular salmon-colored pile of the treasury and 
the royal palace with its crown and crest of 



74 HOLY MOSCOW. 

gold; while still farther away, like globules or 
bubbles floating in the air, rose the numerous 
gilded clustered domes of the Ascension and 
Assumption cathedrals and the lofty stately 
tower of Ivan. Glistening and flashing in the 
full blaze of the afternoon sun it was a sugges- 
tive, Oriental, and poetical picture. We were 
far enough away to make us unconscious of the 
material. Had it all been of richest marbles 
and precious stones it could not have been more 
exquisite in color, more picturesque in grouping, 
or more graceful in outline. It was a scene that 
set one dreaming and seeing some things that 
are invisible. These churches and buildings 
that look so beautiful in paintings and photo- 
graphs need to be seen from a distance, for they 
are white, blue, green, and red washed, and 
while picturesque and charming in general effect 
are cheap and tawdry in detail. Yet in the haze 
they are tremulous with beauty, and in the broad 
sunlight they are often transfigured. 

The drive took us past several very fine and 
palatial looking hospitals, homes, and summer 
residences of Moscow merchants, churches with 
green and red, pale-blue and cream and great 
golden domes, and gave us through the trees 
occasional pretty glimpses of the old city. We 
stopped at a beautiful public park, — Neskutchy, 
also called Sans Souci. A long straight avenue 



HOLY MOSCOW. 75 

with four rows of trees leads to the entrance 
of the grounds, which are laid out about as any 
park or country place is with us, only they 
cannot keep the grass as a lawn. The grounds 
rolled beautifully, and were charmingly diversi- 
fied and planted most effectively. The bank 
sloped gradually to the river ; wild-flowers of 
crimson hue, bells of purple tint, and blossoms 
of white and yellow dotted the grassy bank, and 
walks around in every direction, giving repeated 
and charming vistas and pretty glimpses of the 
little river and the distant country through the 
trees. We drove on, past the Alexandrina Palace 
and park, until we came to a little group of Rus- 
sian log and fancifully decorated houses and a 
gay cafe. Leaving the carriage we passed 
through the cafe to a terrace in the rear, all 
unconscious of what joys awaited us. The cafe 
and its terrace stand upon the crest of the ridge 
of the Sparrow Hills. The bank drops suddenly 
away. Beneath us, pleasant park-like gardens, 
with fine forest-trees and shady walks, stretch 
away to the river's edge, which bends like a 
huge horseshoe in either direction out of sight. 
Stretched out directly before us, in this hoop- 
like enclosure of the river, was a richly culti- 
vated plain dotted with little picturesque huts 
and farm-houses and masses of trees, with not a 
rod but was beautiful. Beyond lay the long level 



76 HOLY MOSCOW. 

mass of white houses, buried in verdure, broken 
by innumerable towers and domes, brilliant with 
touch of carmine, blue, and green, and flashing 
with gold of the ancient city of Holy Moscow. 

We sat there that warm sunny afternoon in a 
strange thrill of reverence and delight we could 
neither analyze nor understand. All we could 
hear was, " And I, John, saw the holy city, new 
Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven, 
prepared as a bride adorned for her husband." 
And yet it was only an ancient city, a kingdom 
of this world basking and flashing in the glo- 
rious slanting rays of an afternoon sun. Only 
one other scene has ever so affected us, and that 
was the view of the silver roofs of Quebec glit- 
tering in the sunlight, as seen from Mont- 
morency. That, lifted upon the great rock, was 
like the heavenly city of the Hebrew singers. 
This was like a dream, a vision, — a something 
seen but well-nigh unattainable. Almost directly 
before us, in the mass of the city, rose stately 
and grand the new church of St. Saviour, built 
to commemorate the deliverance from the French. 
Its great dome and four attendant golden-tipped 
cupolas flashed as if set with huge brilliants. 
It quite hid the palace, etc., of the more distant 
Kremlin, but not the tall Ivan tower, which 
with its miniature dome of gold glowed like a 
beacon or lighthouse above the walls and smaller 



HOLY MOSCOW. 77 

domes of burnished gold. Nearer us was a forti- 
fied monastery, — "the girls' field/' — besieged 
by Napoleon, with quaint bottle-like tower in 
red and white, with golden tip, and over its 
little church four pale miniature domes, sur- 
rounding a golden one. To our right, in the 
trees, almost obscured, gleamed the white walls 
of the Alexandrina Palace, while the densely 
wooded banks followed the river's bend and 
gradually sank to its level. Above the green 
crest of the sloping hill-range in the distance 
glistened numerous towers and gilded domes. 
As the sun sank lower and struck at different 
angles, it seemed to pick out the scene with 
brilliant dots of gold. Calm, stately, and dig- 
nified, the city with forest of temples made with 
hands, with steady gleam of white and constant 
flash of gold, was beautiful beyond description, 
a revelation of glorious beauty and grace. And 
all around us were Russian ladies quietly puffing 
their cigarettes! 

We looked at the scene long and well, feeling 
that we never again would see it in such glo- 
rious flood of sunlight. But as we looked upon 
the beatific vision, we thought with greater 
pleasure of the tall red chimneys that rose here 
and there in the distance, with their long plumes 
of smoke telling of the occupation and liveli- 
hood of thousands. For Moscow is a busy city. 



78 HOLY MOSCOW. 

In it are represented some six or eight hundred 
manufactories and works, giving employment to 
over seventy thousand people. Many are in and 
about the city, others a few miles away. Cotton 
spinning and weaving, cloth, silk, and worsted 
mills and machine-works, bring prosperity and 
new life to the whited sepulchre of Holy Moscow. 






Moscow and St. Savior's. 



THE ACEOPOLIS OF MOSCOW. 

Ax intelligent Englishman, in speaking of a 
trip to Russia, said, "Take Moscow: there is 
nothing there but the Kremlin." But he had 
never sat when a small boy in our old Village 
Hall at home, and looked in wonder and delight 
at the " Grand moving panorama of the Burning 
of Moscow," concluding with an explosion of 
the magazine in the Kremlin, and never then 
and there said to himself, "Some day these eyes 
shall look upon Holy Moscow and the Kremlin; " 
nor through long years kept the little spark of 
hope alive by reading, in book or newspaper, 
descriptions of the place. He knew nothing of 
the suppressed excitement of being so near to 
a hope fulfilled and a day-dream realized, and 
so was excusable. We could afford to be mag- 
nanimous, for we were already on our way. But 
no reading of Napoleon's campaigns, nor study 
of his eventful history, ever fixed the vivid 
impression of one of the most thrilling episodes 
on record upon boyish mind, as was made by 



80 THE ACROPOLIS OF MOSCOW. 

that (probably) cheap and common panorama of 
long ago. 

It must be extremely difficult to convey a 
correct idea of it by word-description, for we 
found, notwithstanding our familiarity from 
repeated readings with its form, extent, and 
character, that it — as an estimable old lady 
invariably said, whenever she reached any place 
or came into the presence of any object of which 
she had long heard — "was not at all as we 
expected." The name " Kremlin," said to be 
the Tartar for fortress, is misleading. With 
the word or idea of fortress, or even fortifica- 
tion, looms up in the mind a structure massive, 
sombre, and well-nigh impregnable, adequate to 
modern defence; while in reality the Kremlin 
looks more like a small walled town upon an 
elevation in the centre of a busy city, a thing 
whose picturesque beauty should ever insure its 
protection. The lofty and pretty red walls, with 
walk all round the inner side, do not seem like 
fortifications, for they look so slight and are 
without armament. 

We entered Moscow at ten o'clock one evening. 
The windows of heaven were evidently open, for 
the sheeted rain fell in torrents, and of course 
we saw nothing. But the next day a five min- 
utes' walk upon the little narrow sidewalk, along 
a busy street teeming with interesting figures 



THE KREMLIN. 81 

and vehicles (something to see every moment), 
brought us face to face with a high brick wall 
with petal-like battlements and a tall white 
ancient Gothic tower. Over its portal was a 
mosaic " ikon " of Saint Nicholas, much revered, 
because when Napoleon ordered the structure 
to be blown up and destroyed, it was rent and 
cracked to the very edge of the picture, and not 
even the glass was broken nor the lamp before 
it shattered. We passed through the tunnel- 
like way and emerged in a large open place 
with a huge arsenal to the right of us, and a 
massive domed palace to the left of us, and a 
great barrack for "the six hundred" in front of 
us, with glimpses in the distance of gilded and 
colored Oriental domes, gleams of exterior fres- 
cos, and glistening crosses and tall towers. At 
last, we were within the Kremlin. 

The old fortress has a history, interesting and 
thrilling; for built in the fourteenth century, it 
has withstood siege after siege, has been burned 
three or four times, and has been the scene of 
the baptism, coronation, and burial of a long 
line of czars. Even now an emperor must be 
crowned there. Its ruddy walls measure some 
7,280 feet, and scattered along its line at irregu- 
lar intervals in most picturesque and riotous 
variety are some eighteen towers and five gates. 
One of the latter, called "the Redeemer's," is the 

VOL. II. — 6 



82 THE ACROPOLIS OF MOSCOW. 

sacred gate of Moscow. Over it is a picture of 
our Saviour, painted in 1647. Every one, from 
emperor to poorest peasant, who passes through 
this portal must remove his hat. It is said that 
Napoleon declared he would ride through it cov- 
ered; but just as he reached it, the wind swept 
off his hat! Within the enclosure of these walls 
are barracks, an arsenal, a judicial building, 
convents, a grand royal palace, the treasury, 
synodical buildings, and some six or seven 
churches and cathedrals, all standing in most 
picturesque confusion. Some are buff, some 
terra-cotta, and others are yellow and white ; 
while the churches are also ornamented with 
antique frescos, and with towers and domes of 
indigo blue, white, and burnished gold. 

As it was Ascension Day (Greek calendar), 
the churches were crammed with a motley and 
unsavory crowd. Not liking the atmosphere, we 
loitered about until after service, looking at the 
quaint, grotesque, yet picturesque structures 
from different points, and " getting the geogra- 
phy of it," when we came to a wall overlooking 
a fine sweeping view of a large portion of the 
city. The undulating mass of white walls and 
pale -green roofs, fairly buried in a wealth of 
foliage, with a forest of red and white towers 
and spires and gilded domes rising all along 
the line, made an enchanting and fairy-like 



THE KREMLIN. 83 

picture. Again and again, during our stay in 
Moscow, we went to this point, for even upon 
gray and cloudy days there was an exquisite 
mother-of-pearl look to this mass of white, roll- 
ing and trembling in verdure. Directly in front 
of us the grass-covered bank dropped away into 
narrow gardens, while directly opposite were 
the tower and gate by which the French victo- 
riously entered, and by which they ignominiously 
retreated. 

A trio of churches within a stone's throw of 
one another and of the palace are most interest- 
ing, as representing the three important epochs 
of baptism, coronation, and sepulture in the 
lives of a long line of czars of the Rurik and 
the Eomanoff families, and are as thrilling and 
fascinating in their way as San Marco or West- 
minster Abbey. The smallest of the three, the 
church of the Annunciation, with nine gilded 
domes, is close to the royal palace, and is the 
scene of the baptism of the imperial infant. 
It was undergoing extensive repairs, and was 
crowded with scaffoldings, etc. ; but we saw the 
passage-way covered with queer old frescos, the 
gallery which the czar enters privately from 
the palace, the jasper and agate floor presented 
by a shah of Persia, and the "ikon" of the 
" Holy Virgin of Don " carried even as long ago 
as 1380 as a standard in battle, and considered 



84 THE ACROPOLIS OF MOSCOW. 

possessed of miraculous powers. Around the 
hideous face was a circlet or tiara of emeralds. 
In a niche in the wall was a seat occupied by 
Ivan until he married his fourth wife, and then 
he was disgraced and obliged to kneel outside by 
a window. But "his successors remain stand- 
ing during the service." This church was sadly 
pillaged by the French, but was restored by the 
merchants of Moscow as a thank-offering for 
deliverance from the plague, some one hundred 
and ninety-six pounds of silver being used for 
the screens alone. This queer old building has 
been the scene also of many of the royal mar- 
riages. It possesses many treasures and relics, 
even to the sponge upon which vinegar was 
offered to our Saviour! It seemed to us that 
more strain was laid upon credulity in Eussia 
than anywhere else. 

By far the most interesting of the three 
churches is the cathedral of the Assumption 
(architecturally a mixture of Byzantine and 
Lombard styles), because it retains so much of 
its primitive forms, and has witnessed the gor- 
geous and magnificent ceremonial of the corona- 
tions, from Ivan the Terrible to the present czar. 
None of them, compared with celebrated church 
edifices, are large, and all have whitewashed 
exteriors and look cheap, although some have 
way up under projecting eaves bright frescos 



THE KREMLIN. 85 

of religious subjects. But comparatively small 
and disproportionately tall as they are, all are 
surmounted by groups of small, graceful, Oriental 
domes richly gilded and topped by open-work 
crosses, steadied by guys of golden chains. It 
is difficult to convey an idea of how exquisite 
these domes and crosses appear, glittering and 
flashing in the sunlight against a clear blue sky, 
for it is so unlike anything we have. Above 
the Assumption bask in the sunshine five domes, 
one hundred and twenty-eight feet from the 
pavement, all ablaze with gold. The interior 
at first glance is disappointing, for it seems so 
small, so confused, and so lacking in impressive 
effect. Four enormous round piers support the 
domed roof and break the interior into small 
spaces. But as one loiters awhile and takes in 
the details of solid golden surfaces, with quaint 
old frescoed figures, the multitude of hanging 
lamps, the immense central chandelier and the 
silver, "ikon "-decorated screens across one end, 
it opens, as the Venetian San Marco, like a huge 
tropical flower, and grows in solemnity, sub- 
limity, and impressiveness. It has always been 
extremely rich in appointments, so much so that 
the French, notwithstanding the principal objects 
of value had been removed, took away from it 
five tons of silver and five hundred weight of 
gold. Much of this, however, was recovered by 



86 THE ACROPOLIS OF MOSCOW. 

the Cossack soldiery, who in gratitude presented 
a huge silver chandelier, which now hangs before 
the sanctuary, containing one hundred and ninety- 
six pounds of pure silver, wrought into a beauti- 
ful cluster of forty-six branches. Several almost 
as large, but of gilded metal, keep it company, 
while some twenty or more superb hanging - 
lamps burn before a dado of " ikons " along the 
side walls. Only the Primates or Metropolitans 
of the Greek Church are buried here. Wall and 
ceilings are covered with ancient frescos upon 
golden grounds, and age, dust, and incense- 
smoke have dulled all but the gold, producing a 
weird and uncanny effect. The immense screen 
across the sanctuary is a mass of carving and 
gold, with row after row of pictures, — a regular 
gallery ! One of the holy pictures is the " Holy 
Virgin of Vladmir," painted by Saint Luke, 
brought to Moscow from Constantinople in 1135, 
It is covered as usual, except face and hands, with 
an ornamental "repousse " plate of gold, studded 
with brilliant jewels, to the value of two hundred 
and twenty-five thousand dollars, — one emerald 
alone being valued at fifty thousand dollars. 
Pendant from it, with other jewels given as 
votive offerings, were a superb diamond neck- 
lace and a tiara of lovely diamond flowers. 
The face is scarcely distinguishable, being very 
ancient, dark, and painted on wax. It is piti- 



THE KREMLIN. 87 

able to see the people kiss and adore it. One can- 
not help wondering as he looks at this fearfully 
illiterate and simple accepting crowd, whether 
He who looks upon the heart may not in some 
way say " according to thy faith be it done unto 
thee!" 

Dean Stanley in his "Eastern Church" gives 
a thrilling and vivid picture of the utter loneli- 
ness of the coronation ceremonial, even to the 
czar himself administering the sacrament, typical 
of his being next to and alone with God, — which 
latter, however, Murray says is incorrect. But 
it is a fact that here beneath this dull and lofty 
roof, upon a low platform, between two of these 
ponderous columns, and directly opposite the 
royal doors of the sanctuary, surrounded by all 
this gold and decoration of ancient times and 
these old frescos of councils, Last Judgment, 
Life and death of Virgin, Patriarchs, Fathers, 
and Saints, — every one of a long line of empe- 
rors clad in the costly, magnificent robes of office, 
has here lifted a heavily and gorgeously jewelled 
crown to his head, has knelt and audibly " recited 
the confession of the orthodox faith," and offered 
up "the prayer of intercession for the Empire," 
and then entering the Holy of Holies has par- 
taken of the sacrament of the broken body and 
shed blood. With the whole interior hung with 
cloth-of-gold and richest velvets, and surrounded 



88 THE ACROPOLIS OF MOSCOW. 

by a court surpassing all others in gorgeousness 
of costume and richness of attire and semi-bar- 
baric wealth and displa} r of priceless jewels, 
these scenes must be magnificent. Later we 
saw a large painting of the coronation of the 
present czar, which for lavish magnificence was 
indescribable. 

The tombs of the Primates are held in high 
esteem, and are buried in a mass of silver, gold, 
and gorgeous velvet hangings. No woman is 
permitted to enter the sanctuary. We saw under 
glass a silver model of Moses upon Mt. Sinai, 
containing nineteen pounds of gold and the same 
of silver. Beneath it is kept the certificate and 
state papers of the last coronation. In some 
side-rooms are silver tombs, reliquaries, and a 
celebrated "ikon/' called the Blessed Virgin of 
Jerusalem. These tombs are caskets, or sar- 
cophagi, of solid silver. Lift up the lids, and 
there, covered with richest vestments, is the 
body of the saint. Frequently an opening, or 
aperture, shows the blackened nose or hand, 
and the people cross themselves and bend over 
and kiss them as we would a fresh, rosy baby! 
The sacred relics run the usual gamut of "a nail 
from the true cross," "a piece of our Saviour's 
robe," etc., while the ecclesiastical treasures 
are a blinding blaze of silver, gold, and precious 
stones. 



THE KREMLIN. 89 

A few steps from this building is the last 
of the trio, the Cathedral of the Arch-Angel 
Michael, built in 1332. The interior presents 
a most remarkable appearance, for it looks, 
between the gorgeous screen, the multitude of 
hanging-lamps, chandeliers, and metal banners, 
quite like a bric-a-brac shop. The banners are 
seen everywhere, and are gorgeous to the ex- 
treme. Some are of velvet, richly embroidered 
with gold, but oftener of openwork of silver- 
gilt, enriched with exquisite enamels and pre- 
cious stones. AVithin this small interior and 
taking up full one half of it are the dark, uni- 
form box-like tombs of czars and princes to the 
number of fifty or more, all covered with red- 
velvet palls, each embroidered with a golden 
cross. That of Ivan the Terrible is covered 
with black to denote his death as a monk. Alas ! 
that of his little son, murdered at the age of six, 
lies near by. Xo wonder that twice a year " a 
funeral service is performed here, and forgive- 
ness invoked for that burden of sins, voluntary 
or involuntary, known to themselves or unknown, 
which those who are buried in the cathedral 
committed when on earth." 

We visited two of the large convents which 
enclose three churches, all with clustered gilt 
domes, and very pretty interiors, but with noth- 
ing of marked interest except the tombs of the 



90 THE ACROPOLIS OF MOSCOW. 

czarinas and other royal ladies, covered with 
embroidered velvet palls, which well-nigh fill one 
church. It is a strange sight, all these velvet- 
covered tombs, surrounded by a blaze of gold 
and cloud of color, with the black-robed nuns 
who care for them flitting to and fro, dusting 
one or tidying another. 

Close to the Cathedral of the Assumption, 
where the emperors are crowned, is a long build- 
ing one end of which is surmounted by white 
cupolas and domes. In an upper story is the 
Sacristy of the Holy Synod, — three rooms, with 
presses containing ecclesiastical robes, embroi- 
dered with pearls, medallions, rubies, emeralds, 
and diamonds, mitres with precious stones, pas- 
toral staffs richly jewelled, and some superb 
crosses and ornaments worn around the neck by 
the priests. One robe, presented by Ivan the 
Terrible in expiation of a murder, is of crimson 
velvet, and so loaded with chased medallions 
and embroidery of gold, with pearls, rubies, 
emeralds, and diamonds, as to weigh fifty-four 
pounds. In one room is a large case of silver 
and gold vessels for church use, of quaint and 
beautiful design. In a smaller one is a copper 
vase, or- bottle, with a long narrow neck com- 
pletely covered with small scales of thin mother- 
of-pearl, called the "Alabaster," containing the 
precious ointment used by Mary Magdalen! 



THE KREMLIN. 91 

Just how any was saved we did not under- 
stand, for it is written that she broke the pre- 
cious box of ointment and poured it over the 
Saviour's feet. 

In this room is prepared every two or three 
years, during Lent, by the Metropolitan and 
higher clergy, the Holy Chrism used at the 
baptism of every Russian, at the consecration 
of every church, and for the anointing of the 
emperor at his coronation. It is u composed of 
thirty different elements, — oil, wine, gums, 
balsams, and spices," — and it is made holy by a 
few drops from the "Alabaster." These drops 
are replaced by some of the completed mixture, 
so, like the widow's cruse, it never fails, and 
at the same time the new represents to every 
believing Russian the precious ointment of Mary. 
It is prepared according to a strict formula. In 
the adjoining room stands a magnificent silver 
caldron with handles of gold, full four and a 
half feet in height, and two great silver kettles 
three feet in height, presented by Catherine II. 
for its preparation; the great ladles, sieves, etc., 
used are also of silver. When finished, it is 
poured into sixteen tall vase-like silver jars, 
presented by Paul I. It is said that there is 
twelve hundred weight of silver in them all. 
The vases stand upon the floor in a semi-circle 
in the plate press, and look like antique cinerary 



92 THE ACROPOLIS OF MOSCOW. 

urns. The "Alabaster" is of a very graceful 
shape and is very beautiful. " At the baptism 
of children the priest crosses with a small camel- 
hair brush, dipped in the chrism, the mouth, 
eyes, ears, hands, and feet, besides the back and 
breast. The eyes are anointed in order that 
the child may see only good, the ears that they 
may admit only what is pure, the mouth that 
he may speak as becomes a Christian, the hands 
that they may do no wrong, and the feet that 
they may tread in the path of virtue." 

One of the most stately and picturesque struc- 
tures within the Kremlin is the "Ivan tower," — 
a tall (325 feet) five-story tower, surmounted by 
a gilded dome and cross. It rises from one end 
of a long narrow building, which also upholds 
two other lower towers and domes and a chapel 
dedicated to Saint Nicholas, the patron saint of 
ladies about to marry. Go where you may, this 
uplifted dome towers above everything else. 
The view from it is said to be magnificent, but 
its four hundred and fifty steps were too much 
for us, although we looked at the summit with 
longing eyes and strong desire. It holds thirty- 
four bells, beginning with one weighing sixty- 
four tons and ending with two small ones of 
silver of exquisite tone. Near its base upon a 
frame-work or foundation of brick stands the 
great bell of Moscow, "the King of bells." Way 



THE KREMLIN. 93 

back in 1636 a huge bell was cast. In 1654 this 
was recast. It was broken in 1706, and again 
recast in 1733 by the Empress Anne. Some 
heavy rafters fell upon it during a fire in 1737, 
and it lay half buried in the ground until 1836, 
when it was placed as now seen. Beside it lies 
a large piece broken from it, said to weigh eleven 
tons. The whole bell stands twenty -six feet 
in height, and is surmounted by a crown and 
ornamented with bass-reliefs of Alexander and 
Empress Anne, with below a scroll-work bearing 
our Saviour, the evangelists, and cherubim. It 
weighs two hundred tons. It is said that in the 
recasting, the ladies of the court standing by 
threw their jewels in the molten metal, and that 
the shattering of it was owing to this. 

There are several smaller churches and palaces, 
etc., not open to visitors. In front of the great 
Arsenal lie trophies of war, being some eight 
hundred and seventy-five cannon. There are 
also many ornamental pieces, and one cannon 
weighing forty tons. 

From the Kremlin heights one studies the 
Moscow of to-day; and from Moscow, upon the 
hill-top, the story of long ago. A conspicuous 
feature in the view in one direction is an enor- 
mous white building of several stories (which 
reminds one of Fabyan's in our White Moun- 
tains), — the State Foundling Asylum, where 



94 THE ACROPOLIS OF MOSCOW. 

seven thousand children are received annually. 
Napoleon used it as a military hospital, and five 
thousand of his soldiers lie buried in its court- 
yard. This immense establishment is supported 
principally by the government tax upon playing- 
cards! 

A morning in the Kremlin was passed in the 
world-renowned Treasury and the grand Eoyal 
Palace, — contiguous structures, but with en- 
trances literally a quarter of a mile apart. The 
Treasury is a veritable museum, recalling the 
Tower of London; and but for repeated fires and 
the melting up of silver and golden vessels in 
times of war, it would to-day surpass any other 
collection in Europe in the great number of 
countries represented, in the articles of plate- 
armor and jewels. As it is, it is magnificent 
and priceless, because of the great number, 
infinite variety, and superb richness of the 
venerated historic and ancient articles it con- 
tains. The position of Russia upon the border- 
land of barbaric and luxurious and sensuous 
Turkey and Asia has brought her monarchs in 
all sorts of attitudes of peace and war, which 
have called forth presents and tributes from 
Oriental rulers, of characteristic lavishness and 
sumptuousness. And surely no countries use 
gold and silver and pearls and precious stones 
upon every conceivable article of use or orna- 



THE KREMLIN. 95 

ment as these wild, barbaric, Eastern ones do. 
Firearms, saddles, articles of dress, plate, and 
all sort of boxes, sword-hilts, and spears are 
encrusted lavishly with diamonds, rubies, and 
precious stones, until they fairly blaze and dazzle 
with scintillating lights. Ivory is inlaid with 
gold and silver, etc., in patterns as fine and 
intricate as India shawls. 

We entered a vestibule from which a fine 
staircase ascended to the upper rooms, with 
portraits of the kings of Poland, eight or ten 
old royal carriages, one of the most elaborate 
having been presented by Queen Elizabeth of 
England. Another was entirely covered with 
velvet, studded with gilt nails. The huge sled 
by which the Empress Elizabeth used to travel 
from St. Petersburg to Moscow was quite like 
a parlor car, with a long table through the 
centre and seats all around. They were all the 
most unwieldy and huge affairs, and were faded 
and tarnished. Near a marble statue of Napo- 
leon stand two camp bedsteads, etc., taken from 
him in campaigns. We then passed up a stately 
staircase, and visited several consecutive rooms 
having a fine collection of Eussian armor, and 
armor for men and horses, ancient Eussian fire- 
arms and standards, portraits of the Romanoff 
(the present) dynasty, jewelled saddles and 
accoutrements, shields, and exquisitely inlaid 



96 THE ACKOPOLIS OF MOSCOW. 

and jewelled armor. In one room are cases 
containing some sixteen hundred pieces of plate 
from England, Germany, and almost every coun- 
try, many of which are of quaint design and 
elaborate workmanship. Many of the Russian 
plate possessions can be seen in electrotype 
reproductions in our Metropolitan Museum, but 
the superb wine casket is only in the Hermitage 
at St. Petersburg. Other cases are filled with 
matchless seventeenth-century enamels, vessels 
and ornaments of rock crystal, and beautiful odd 
pieces of china. It is a rich display, and it was 
vexatious only to glance at them and move on. 
But the glory of the Treasury is a circular 
room, containing thrones, crowns, royal robes, 
and insignia. In the centre is a long glass case 
covering the baldacchino, or canopy, carried over 
the present emperor in his coronation procession, 
of rich cloth-of-gold emblazoned with the royal 
crests and finished with great bunches of orange 
and black plumes. Beneath is the long golden 
mantle, or circular, trimmed with ermine and 
embroidered with the arms of Russia, as also the 
other garments worn by him on that occasion. 
Behind it is the golden mantle, quite similar, 
worn by the empress on that occasion, and also 
the solid spun-silver embroidered dress worn by 
her. It looked exactly like tin, and had an 
enormous train with embossed flower-border. 



THE KREMLIN. 97 

Beside it lay the dainty openwork silk stock- 
ings, the tiny silver slippers, and the gloves 
worn with it. It gives quite an idea of the 
gorgeous ceremonial. Gold and silver could go 
no further. Around the sides of this room are 
tall glass cases, in which hang the coronation 
robes of all the sovereigns from Catherine II. to 
the present regime, all quite alike. Before them 
stand six thrones, which for delicacy and lavish 
richness "lead all the rest. 7 ' One, a single chair, 
covered entirely with carved ivory panels, was 
the throne of the last emperor of Constantinople, 
and was used at the coronation of Alexander II., 
father of the present emperor. Near it stands 
the historic throne of Poland. One magnificent 
Persian throne is enriched by "eight hundred 
and seventy-six diamonds, twelve hundred and 
twenty-three rubies, besides innumerable pearls 
and turquoise." That of Ivan the Terrible, a 
present from the shah of Persia, is dotted with 
nine thousand small turquoise all over "like a 
rash." Another golden one is studded with 
large turquoise, rubies, and pearls to the number 
of twenty-two hundred. Beneath a glass case is 
a double one of silver, of flamboyant design, 
made for Ivan and Peter. The drapery at the 
back conceals an aperture through which his 
sister Sophia was said to have prompted Ivan 
on state occasions. 

VOL. II. — 7 



98 THE ACROPOLIS OF MOSCOW. 

These thrones were exquisitely beautiful, be- 
ing of excellent shapes and sparkling with cut 
and uncut jewels. Before thern in a circle around 
the room were ten pedestals, holding under glass 
shades as many crowns. Each rested upon a 
band of sable, and with one or two exceptions 
were like a conical cap. One was the crown of 
Stanislaus Augustus, the last king of Poland; 
another, the crown of Kazan, glowing with 
rubies, turquoise, and pearls, and surmounted 
by an enormous topaz. The crown of Astrakan 
is enriched by beautiful enamels, one hundred 
and ninety precious stones, and upholds a huge 
emerald. A most magnificent one is that of 
Peter I., which is ornamented with nine hun- 
dred diamonds, with rubies and emeralds alter- 
nating between points upon pliant wires, and at 
its apex an enormous uncut and irregular shaped 
but lovely tinted ruby, from which springs a 
diamond cross. But the costliest one of all is 
that of the Empress Anne (although originally 
made for Catherine I.), with twenty-five hun- 
dred and thirty-six diamonds and a priceless 
ruby purchased in Pekin in 1676. Another was 
of filigree gold and gems; and still another was 
of ordinary shape, with enormous cut amethysts, 
sapphires, and emeralds. That used by the 
present czar is an ancient one, and looks like a 
partly open melon, but it is such a blaze of light 



THE KREMLIN. 99 

that the shape is quite indistinguishable. Then 
there are orbs and sceptres and collars, etc., all 
a solid mass of costly gems. The tout ensemble 
is brilliant and dazzling beyond description. As 
the sunlight pours in, the prismatic sparkle of 
colors, the brilliant flash of diamonds, and the 
mellow sheen of gold is simply marvellous. But 
somehow it could not obliterate the sight of the 
wretched peasant hut we visited, nor the great 
multitude of wretched pilgrims, so poor and 
forlorn, we had seen at Troitsa. 

The interior of the adjacent Eoyal Palace is 
a charming illustration of what refined and cul- 
tivated taste can do with the same rich materials 
used in the older palaces with such bizarre and 
gorgeous effect. The delicate and harmonious 
colorings and the judicious use of gold is in 
striking contrast with the startling hues and 
unsparing avalanche of gilt there seen. It is 
comparatively new, as it was built by Nicholas I. 
between 1838 and 1849, replacing one erected by 
Catherine and occupied by Napoleon and burned 
by the French. It is a very long tall building, 
with a sort of Oriental window-casings, washed 
a salmon tint, and surmounted by a cushion and 
crown of gold. It is of course of immense extent, 
for royal housekeeping involves large expendi- 
ture. Although there are some seven hundred 
rooms, only the state apartments and some 



100 THE ACROPOLIS OF MOSCOW. 

ancient family rooms are shown. But it is all 
very grand, rich, and refined, at the same time 
imposing and magnificent. 

We entered a vestibule with huge monolithic 
columns of gray marble, and then ascended a 
stately staircase of great length and beauty. 
Soon we entered the Hall of St. George (two 
hundred feet in length), with columns and 
statues all in white, with furniture in black 
and orange, the colors of the Order, with six 
enormous chandeliers and tall candelabra uphold- 
ing thirty-two hundred candles. It was superb, 
and from one end an enormous window com- 
mands the peerless view of the old city. Then 
followed a lovely and imposing hall all in pale 
pink and gold, dedicated to the Order of St. 
Alexander Nevski, with stands or buffets at 
either end for the royal plate, while lovely 
frescos by Muller fill tall spandrels and panels. 
The triple-domed ceiling of pale blue and gold 
produces a most delicate and mellow effect. This 
opened into the Hall of the Order of St. Andrew, 
every room being hung or furnished with the 
colors of the Order to which it is assigned. This 
was in lovely watered silk, with pilasters all 
ablaze with arms of Kussian provinces, and at 
one end a handsome golden throne resting upon 
a dais covered with cloth-of-gold. Ten superb 
chandeliers and as many standing candelabra 



THE KREMLIN. 101 

adorn this princely room. Next was the room 
of the Order of St, Catherine, in red and silver, 
with malachite pilasters, enormons candelabra 
of crystal and gold, and a superb canopy and 
throne in the Order's colors, where the newly- 
made empress always holds a drawing-room after 
her coronation. Then we walked through state, 
drawing, and bedrooms, with doors inlaid with 
mother-of-pearl and metals, with jasper columns, 
ormolu and china ornaments, crystal vases of 
enormous heights, superb chandeliers, decorated 
porcelain vases, and exquisitely inlaid floors 
that were works of art in every sense. There 
is nothing bizarre or vulgar about any of the 
rooms; all is refined and intrinsically beauti- 
ful. A dainty chapel was overlooked from side 
windows. 

Looking from one side of a court, we saw a 
most picturesque and peculiar structure, called 
the Terem, anciently devoted to the czarita and 
her children. It is of four stories, each gradu- 
ally diminishing until the topmost one contains 
only a single room, — like a temple, or pagoda. 
The rooms were small, with vaulted ceilings and 
lots of old chairs, chests, and beds of a bygone 
age. Then we passed into the Granovitaya 
Palace, in which, was a decorated hall leading 
to the outer staircase, by which the emperor 
descends for his coronation; also into the room 



102 THE ACROPOLIS OF MOSCOW. 

where he sits enthroned for the first time in 
all the insignia of his rank, and where the 
coronation banquet is given. Quaint frescos, 
huge columns, and enormous bronze chandeliers, 
and high up overlooking it a window from which 
the empress surveys the scene, finish "the show." 
One more superb hall followed. It was that 
of the Order of St. Vladamir, with high-pointed 
roof, airy, graceful, and beautiful, and hangings 
of red and black silk. Fit ending this to a 
dream of marble halls and kingly abode ; but 
oh, what a painful contrast to the hovels and 
huts of peasants throughout the land! 



A TE DEUM IN STONE. 

The deliverance of Holy Moscow from the grasp 
and dominion of the French was an historical 
event of such vital importance and of such wide- 
spread significance that it was only natural that 
thanksgiving should be expressed in enduring 
stone and everlasting memorial. 

The original intention was to erect a magnifi- 
cent church, a Te Deum in stone, upon that 
spur of the Sparrow Hills from which Napoleon 
obtained his first view of the fair, beautiful, and 
sacred city, and work was begun and for nine 
years carried on at intervals. Then the dis- 
covery of some Tweed-like manipulations (result- 
ing in the honor of a long vacation in Siberia for 
the architect), and the finding that the soil was 
"unsuitable for an edifice of a ponderous char- 
acter," led to the abandonment of the project. 
Some fourteen years after (1839), the present 
structure within the city was begun, and in 1883 
it was finished, " entirely with Russian materials 
and labor, " at a cost of ten million dollars ! 



104 A TE DEUM IN STONE. 

Where there is so much semi-barbaric splendor 
and so many remnants of the character and devel- 
opments of a past age, it is a relief to have one 
demonstration of what advanced culture and 
modern taste can do, with the same materials. 
The church, a tall, slender, stately structure of 
cream-colored stone, with a ponderous golden 
dome and four small cupola domes, stands upon 
a gentle elevation, surrounded by an open plaza, 
a terrace, and pretty gardens, and is a conspicu- 
ous feature in every view of the city. While 
the exterior is in better taste than the older 
structures, it is so ornamented by immense bas- 
reliefs as to fail in impress iveness and grandeur. 
Like so many of the Greek churches, it looks so 
slim and tall. The summit of the cross upon 
the great dome is three hundred and forty feet 
above the ground. Granite steps lead to an 
imposing portico with thirty-six marble columns 
and richly cast doors of bronze, and high above 
is inscribed "God with us." There is ample 
room within for seven thousand persons. 

The interior gives not in the faintest degree 
any occasion for disappointment. In simple dig- 
nity of form, in genuine and intrinsic richness 
of finish, in harmony of coloring, and in absolute 
perfection of every detail broad and minute, it 
surpasses any interior in Europe save that of 
the Albert Chapel at Windsor. Unlike lovely 



ST. SAVIOUR'S, MOSCOW. 105 

and poetic San Marco, the glory of Venice, it 
needs no glamour of imagination, no "reading 
between the lines." Nothing is so crowded with 
sentiment, poetry, religious feeling, and artistic 
sense as San Marco; but much depends upon the 
individual. We sat day after day entranced by 
its picturesque and solemn effects, fascinated by 
its pictured stories which make it a " People's 
Bible," and astonished at the symbolic meaning 
of its wealth of details; but some persons finish 
it "at one sitting." Yet San Marco is dingy, 
musty, and old; while St. Saviour's on the 
other hand is as fresh and fair as some sym- 
metrical and gorgeous flower of the tropics. It 
has not the symbolism or hidden meaning which 
makes the other a continuous revelation; but it 
is so fair, so sumptuous, so harmonious, that it 
seems like a glad, exultant, and triumphant 
Te Deum. 

In a majority of the churches the usual ground- 
plan of the Greek cross is marred by the lofty 
golden "ikonastas," or screens, which cut off one 
arm entirely. Not so in St. Saviour's, for at one 
glance the whole form of the cross is seen. In- 
stead of a partition-like screen across the begin- 
ning of one arm, there rises in stately beauty 
an octagonal temple or sanctuary of polished 
white marble, carved and inlaid with gold and 
mosaic, and enclosing in panels lovely modern 



106 A TE DEUM IN STONE. 

pictures. At each corner is a parapet finished 
with a cross, and over it all a golden pointed 
roof, and through the centre of the front two 
superb golden gates, which might be those of 
Paradise. As attendant priests, in long flowing 
robes of crimson and gold brocade, swept with 
commanding and graceful review through these 
shining gates, following the high priest, thus 
closing all sight of the Holy of Holies from the 
people, the scene was dramatic and beautiful. 
But it all looks like idolatry pure and simple, 
and is saddening and unsatisfactory to the last 
degree. All around the side walls of the edifice 
is a dado of polished "Labrador," red like por- 
phyry, with panels of glittering dark-green Fin- 
land granite. Above this, a story is covered 
with immense panels of white marble, inlaid 
with gold and framed with bright soft gray pol- 
ished stone. Above this appears a frieze of 
two or three colored marbles, ornamented with 
a succession of gilded Greek crosses; and then 
upon the walls above and the ceiling, and soar- 
ing away to the apex of the dome, is a soft 
mellow glory of gold and delicate colors, of fres- 
coed saints and prophets and evangelists, and 
encircling the drum of the dome a procession 
of archangels, prophets, apostles, and martyrs 
tending toward the Virgin and the Christ. High 
above them all in the great concave of the dome, 



ST. SAVIOUR'S, MOSCOW. 107 

almost like an apparition, is a representation of 
the Trinity, — God the Father surrounded by 
angels, with the Saviour as a child at his right 
hand, and upon his outstretched hand the Dove. 
The gradation of color is wonderful, from this 
dark red and green of ponderous marble, up, until 
in a soft mist and delicate cloud far away are 
seen these spectral figures typical of the Trinity. 
In each of the three arms of the building appears 
a gallery with double row of richest golden metal- 
work candlesticks and balustrades. Chandeliers 
of richest material and most graceful form hang 
everywhere ; also " ikons " in symmetrical and 
uniform stands and in altar-like frames along 
the tabernacle end, and modern frescos in 
softest and most delicate tints on every side. 
Not a detail is slighted. Everything is perfect 
in richness and costliness of material and ex- 
treme carefulness and conscientiousness of finish. 
All around the audience-room is a continuous 
corridor, or hall, entirely separate from it, with 
side walls covered with immense polished marble 
panels inscribed with the names of battles in 
the French war, and of the soldiers who perished 
in defence of city and fatherland. This impos- 
ing Walhalla is as finely finished as the church, 
and holds beautifully in everlasting remembrance 
those who laid down life for their country. There 
is something thrilling in this great silent array 



108 A TE DEUM IN STONE. 

of names, showing the truth of the poet's asser- 
tion, "The path of glory leads but to the grave." 
Within the great solemn sanctuary, beyond the 
golden gates, stand the sacramental altar and 
the seven-branched candlestick, beyond which 
in a semi-circular alcove or apse is a painting 
of the Last Supper, by Verestchagin. It is very 
fine and impressive, and the apostles looked the 
plain homely men they really were. 

It was a delight to sit in the quiet and repose 
of this interior and feel the wondrous harmony 
of proportion, material, and color. It was like 
a vision, so soft, dreamy, and delicious. The 
view from the galleries is indescribable, — every- 
where intricate arabesques in colors upon golden 
grounds, framing in figures of saints or pictured 
groups. Even in the corridors that surround 
the galleries the walls are exquisitely painted 
by Russian artists with scenes from the lives of 
their kings and saints. We wondered if rich- 
ness of material, lavishness of expenditure, grace- 
fulness of form, or soft glory of gold and color 
could go any farther than this. The building 
seems immense, and yet it is light and airy in 
appearance. One can sit there and feel the 
shadows of the dark, rich marbles enfold him; 
can look up and catch the light in color and in 
gold of a brighter day, and then, looking far 
away in the lofty firmament-like dome, be con- 



ST. SAVIOUR'S, MOSCOW. 109 

scious of the hope whose glory fadeth not away ! 
We have felt that the Greek churches and ser- 
vices lacked the dignity of the Latin; that the 
" ikons" and gorgeous banners and tasteless 
ornament savored of childish things; but in this 
building there is a solemnity, an expression, a 
character, that is very impressive. As we sat 
there, we asked what was the spell that held us. 
It was "perfect harmony," which, like that in 
music, may be felt but cannot be described. It 
was so restful; so like a suggestion of a 
temple not made with hands, of a tabernacle 
that fadeth not away, and of a city which is a 
heavenly, with its rich picturing of jasper and 
of gold. As we tarried there enfolded with the 
glory of precious gold, and lost in the glowing 
colors of deep and priceless gems, we could only 
repeat, "Behold I will lay thy stones with fair 
colors, and lay thy foundations with sapphires. 
And I will make thy gates of carbuncles and all 
thy borders of pleasant stones!" 



FEAGMENTAKY. 

Just outside of the great Eedeemer gate of the 
Kremlin is the Bed Square, the scene of many 
an execution and historical incident. Facing it 
is the Cathedral of St. Basil, the odd and pic- 
turesque church so often seen in paintings and 
views of Moscow. It is narrow and very lofty, 
and is surmounted by eleven domes, no two of 
which are similar. Some are twisted like screws, 
others conical and like an inverted onion, and 
one is like a pineapple. It looks like a great 
castor with mismatched cruets, like a great coni- 
cal toy, and again like an odd fungus growth. 
Although grotesque, it is always picturesque. 
But the interior is still more odd and peculiar, 
for it is a maze of crooked narrow passages only 
a few feet wide, with a small separate chapel 
beneath each of the eleven domes. These minia- 
ture chapels are like inverted tubes, and although 
but a few feet in diameter they go up and up 
until lost in the dome above. It is all droll and 
queer, and seems like an architectural freak. 
Napoleon said, " Destroy that mosque ! " but his 




***** 



St. Basil's and Redeemer Gate. 



MOSCOW AND TROITSA. Ill 

soldiers had stabled their horses in the basement 
beneath, and it was saved. It is washed with 
dull reds and greens and yellows, with scarcely 
a touch of gold. Close by, it loo"ks tawdry, 
cheap, and gaudy. But stand away from it and 
watch it in the tender haze of a June day, and all 
these colors will tremble, melt, and gleam like 
opals ; or when the afternoon sun throws its slant- 
ing rays full and red upon it, it is transfigured, 
and becomes a glory of weird color and quaint 
outlines, delightfully dreamy and picturesque. 

One of the interesting sights of Moscow is the 
Eomanoff House, the old residence of Michael, 
the founder of the present royal dynasty. For 
a long period of years it was occupied as a mon- 
astery, it having been given to an Order. But 
in 1856 Alexander II. purchased it, and fully 
restored it to its original condition. It is a fine 
illustration of the architecture and the manner 
of living of the "well-to-do" Bussians of the 
Middle Ages. It stands close to the street, is 
small, and shows but two stories; but being on 
a slope of a steep hill it has three facing or 
opening upon the court at the rear. It is a 
pretty little museum of furniture and interior 
decorations ; for while it is a correct restoration, 
there is probably but little of the original build- 
ing left, except the walls of stone. The rooms 
were small, finished entirely in wood, with much 



112 FRAGMENTARY. 

carving and scroll-sawing, and hung with rich 
damasks, etc. In a nursery are grouped the 
cradle, playthings, rattle, little picture-books, 
and all sorts of baby things belonging to the baby- 
hood of the great Michael. In a large sleeping- 
room is a beautifully carved canopy-bed with em- 
broidered cover, belonging to some distinguished 
member of the family. One small apartment was 
the chapel, or praying-room, the doors of which 
were very low, because they said every one 
should bow when he comes into the presence of 
God. In some of the rooms were beautiful 
pieces of silver plate, engraved glass, rare old 
china, and quaint embroideries and antique por- 
traits. Little glass-cabinets were inserted in 
the walls, and the ceilings were ornamented with 
bands of fancy scroll-work. "Ikons" of course 
abounded, some cases being entirely filled with 
them. One lovely room was a library with 
writing-desk and paraphernalia, and a quaint old 
stove of gayly colored tiles. The stoves in sev- 
eral of the rooms were very curious, one being 
inscribed, "There is no better home than one's 
own." Altogether, with richly carved and quaint 
old furniture and bric-a-brac and queer little 
stairways and rooms, all beautifully fresh and 
orderly, it was a charming picture of the six- 
teenth or seventeenth century life. 



MOSCOW AND TROITSA. 113 

Quite in contrast with this old-time story was 
the picture of to-day afforded by the Asiatic 
Exhibition, where in rooms fitted up in Oriental 
style was a fine show of the silks, tissues, prints, 
rugs, carpets, draperies, and bric-a-brac from the 
provinces of Asiatic and Turkish Eussia, all 
shown by attendants in the native costumes. 
Some of the silken rugs were as high as seven 
hundred and fifty and a thousand dollars each, 
and were not more than six feet long at that. 
In other rooms there was a general exhibit of 
the manufactures of Eussia cotton spinning and 
weaving, beautiful chintz, Nottingham lace cur- 
tains, superb silver and colored brocades for 
priestly garments, machinery, brass and silver 
work, needles, wall-hangings, and iron-works. 
We were told that all were introduced by French, 
German, and English capital, and that although 
run by Russian labor the overseers and brains 
are all foreign; for the Russians, although highly 
educated and accomplished, do not seem to grasp 
the technical and practical knowledge required. 
Great attention has been paid to the establish- 
ment of technical schools, but as yet the people 
do not seem to "get the hang of it." All through 
the country one sees enormous works covering 
acres of ground. One at Tver employs four 
thousand men. But for "protection n there would 
not be a manufactory in the kingdom. The only 

VOL. II. — 8 



114 FRAGMENTARY. 

trouble is in machinery, cotton goods, etc. They 
have only a home market, and when the harvest 
fails everything is depressed. 

The most interesting excursion from Moscow 
is to Troitsa Monastery, some fifty or more miles 
away, by rail. The monastery is a ten min- 
utes' drive from the station, and was from the 
first glimpse to our last look a most novel and 
interesting (but never a pretty) sight. It is in 
fact a fortress established in 1300, by Saint 
Sergius. In course of time the Order became 
very wealthy and powerful, so that at one time 
it held one hundred and six thousand serfs. 
Once it was besieged for sixteen months by 
thirty thousand Poles, and later sustained an- 
other prolonged attack. The walls measure 
3,794 feet ; are from thirty to thirty-five feet 
in height, and twenty feet thick. Nine towers 
rise at as many angles. 

As we approached a large open cobbled-stone 
plaza, a strange sight was presented by the 
numerous booths for the sale of everything, and 
the large number of odd, grotesque-looking people 
in "rags and tags." They were pilgrims from 
all parts of the country, this monastery being 
one of the sacred places for fulfilment of vows, 
etc. Of all human beings we have seen, they 
were the worst-looking, although often very droll 



MOSCOW AND TROITSA. 115 

and picturesque. With a bag of supplies upon 
the back, a cane or staff, dresses and wraps of 
all colors and kinds, and heads covered with 
cloths, they were indeed a motley crowd. The 
booths seemed Oriental and picturesque, with 
gay cotton goods and bright tin and brass ware, 
with numerous stands and piles of sunflower and 
pumpkin seeds, great masses of onions, and loads 
and loads of cucumbers, of which the peasants 
are extravagantly fond. 

We drove through an arch beneath a tower 
and came into the little world within the walls. 
Churches, cemeteries, monastic buildings, etc., 
were upon every side. First, we visited the 
sacristy, or treasury. An old priest, with flow- 
ing hair, black robes, and tall pill-box hat 
preceded us. Several large iron-bound doors 
were unlocked and opened before we reached 
the three rooms upon the second floor, contain- 
ing the costly collection. In cases around and 
also in centre of the rooms were hung priestly 
robes presented by various empresses, etc., with 
heavy incrustations, pearls, precious stones, gold 
and silver, and various altar-cloths, etc., exquis- 
itely wrought and covered with embroidery. In 
one case were the plain homely robes of the 
humble Saint Sergius and the cross he wore. In 
startling contrast in another were the crowns of 
Catherine II. and the Empress Elizabeth, and 



116 FRAGMENTARY. 

several presented by as many crowned heads, 
while beneath hung a large number of crosses 
and decorations of costliest gems. Diamonds, 
emeralds, pearls, sapphires, etc., lay around by 
the hundred. Some of the sapphires were mar- 
vellous, and the pink-hued amethysts exquisite. 
There were pendants of coral and agate sur- 
rounded by carbuncles, cut rubies and diamonds, 
a large crucifix of Siberian Aqua Marines, and 
an especially rich altar-cloth magnificently em- 
broidered with pearls of various sizes, inter- 
spersed liberally with sapphires and emeralds. 
In one case were specimens of paper-money, and 
among them a ten, a twenty-five, and a fifty cent 
United States "Shinplaster." 

We visited the Cathedral of the Trinity, which 
is small, and with interior walls literally covered 
with golden " ikons," some of which had been 
to the wars, as they were inscribed with names 
of battles. In one corner is the shrine of Saint 
Sergius, a casket of solid silver beneath a four- 
post bedstead canopy, also of silver. "They say " 
there are nine hundred and thirty-six pounds of 
silver in the two. The casket-lid is uplifted and 
rich robes are visible, and through a mask of 
costly metal is the brown nose of the saint, and 
the people kiss it! And this is where the Grand 
Duke came to pray with such a flourish of trum- 
pets the day we first reached Moscow! 



MOSCOW AND TROITSA. 117 

Under the same roof are several other chapels, 
all ablaze with gold and decorations. Then we 
visited the Cathedral of the Assumption, which 
has five cupolas and two domes and an interior 
of glittering gold. Near by stands a tall tower, 
or belfry, three hundred feet high. It was the 
saddest sight we ever saw, all this collection of 
buildings and "ikons" and superstitions, and 
this great swarm of forlorn, grotesque-looking 
pilgrims, seeking they hardly knew what. They 
looked so poor, so hard and brown, but evidently 
"taking it all in," while lying around the foun- 
tains, sitting upon the steps, walking in every 
direction, and crowding the churches. We have 
seen nothing more pitiful than their bowing 
and crossing and kissing upon bended knee the 
"ikons" and relics. They have no spiritual 
vision beyond these inanimate pictures and 
shrines. It is unutterably sad, and one cannot 
help hoping that in some way different from 
ours the great compassionate love of Christ 
reaches down to them. 

The cemeteries within this walled inclosure 
are held in high esteem, a small plot costing five 
thousand dollars. We saw the place where the 
pilgrims are fed, but they were so filthy and 
with such an odor we were satisfied with a 
glance. None of the buildings are handsome 
close by, for they are of stucco and washed in 



118 FRAGMENTARY. 

gaudy colors; but a little way off, with the 
sunlight lying full upon them, they are most 
artistic and picturesque, and upon canvas would 
look beautiful. From a distance, basking in the 
sunlight, these walls and towers and gilded 
domes and colored facades seem like an appari- 
tion. All along the railway for miles we could 
see these poor pilgrims going or returning, — a 
revelation of wretchedness and degradation that 
well-nigh obliterated all the enjoyment of the 
day. 






FINLAND. 



AN UNBECLOUDED WAY. 

Our last glance at St. Petersburg was striking 
and charming. We had taken the steamer at 
7 o'clock in the evening, and were passing 
rapidly down the Neva. The eastern side, with 
its fine quays and handsome public buildings, 
was flooded with sunlight. The great terra- 
cotta mass of the Winter Palace, rich and 
ruddy, was fading out of sight in tints of pale 
and delicate pink ; the slender spire of the 
Admiralty was a lance of flame, and the great 
dome of St. Isaac's a sphere of burnished gold. 
Soon we passed into the Maritime Canal, built 
to enable the ocean-going steamers to load and 
discharge at St. Petersburg, which the very 
narrow channel of the Neva will not permit, 
and then out into the Gulf of Finland. The 
low-lying shore, because of the declining sun, 
showed amidst the verdure many a sparkle of 
palace and villa windows like the flash of gems 
and the gleam of burnished gold. Among the 



120 AN UNBECLOUDED WAY. 

trees in the distance was the long low Palace 
of Peterhof, where we had spent snch sunny 
hours. Upon the other hand, ahead of us, 
against a glowing golden sky. stood out like 
silhouettes the domes and spires of Cronstadt, 
and a great forest of masts and shipping. 

It was 9 o'clock when we came abreast of 
this, the most important naval station of the 
kingdom. It was alive with shipping. Great 
basins protected by breakwaters were full of 
naval vessels. Fortifications appeared on every 
side. Little islands, out in the stream, were 
covered with bristling works, while tall old- 
fashioned forts rose directly from the waters. 
Beyond all these defences we could see many 
large and imposing buildings indicative of a fine 
and important city. The red sunlight made it 
a beautiful and fairy-like scene, long after we 
had passed it. When the sun finally got to bed 
Ave knew not, for at nine thirty it sank, far 
above the horizon, into a bank of cloud, which 
the genial captain said promised a rainy morrow. 
But the next morning, after 8 o'clock, was clear 
and warm. We were out upon the gulf, with 
no sight of land, — the part of the journey which 
like the ancient almanacs has written over it, 
"Expect rough sea here." But fortunately for 
us poor sailors, excepting a slight swell the 
waters were very calm. By 10 o'clock we could 



ST. PETERSBURG TO STOCKHOLM. 121 

discern a long low line of coast, and at 12 o'clock 
we were moored by the wharf at Helsingfors, in 
Russian Finland. 

The approach to Helsingfors is superb, being 
through a number of low-lying islands, seven of 
which are covered with very strong and extensive 
fortifications. We entered the harbor through 
a narrow strait, between fortified islands, that 
did not look one hundred and fifty feet wide. 
The city makes a fine appearance from the sea, 
and was a great surprise to us, with its villa 
and temple crowned hill, its tall spires, stately 
domes, and large public buildings. 

As we were to remain there several hours we 
took a cab, and for an hour and a half "just 
drove around." It was difficult to realize that 
we were far away in Finland, for the summer 
villas of wood, the parks and private grounds, 
were much like our own land. In the centre 
of the town is a long park, kept in lawns, with 
lovely flower-borders, with bronze statue of a 
national poet, and music kiosk; while facing 
it are blocks of fine business houses, hotels, and 
apparently "flats." A stately, classic senate 
house, a large town hall, a university with nine 
hundred students, and a number of imposing 
public buildings, demonstrate that it is "no mean 
city." 

One enormous pile is the church of St. Nicho- 



122 AN UNBECLOUDED WAY. 

las, which quite suggests St. Isaac's at Peters- 
burg, — adorned without with statues of the 
Apostles, and within with those of Luther, 
Melancthon, and Agricola, who translated the 
Bible into Finnish. We were in a land of 
religious liberty and Protestantism again! The 
difference from Russia in the look of everything 
is very marked. Even the plain people look 
brighter and more intelligent. It seems more 
like a German city, — a little Berlin. The ladies 
look as if they had been armed and equipped 
at Bedfern's. The air of thrift, business, and 
prosperity is very marked, and the place, with 
its population of fifty thousand, is altogether 
delightful. We left, at 6 o'clock, the city and 
fortifications, ablaze and ruddy with slanting 
sunlight, presenting for a long way a beautiful 
appearance. And then we entered upon a " Eoyal 
Progress," over smooth and placid waters, along 
an island-dotted shore, again through a regular 
archipelago, changing every ten minutes, — 
sometimes surrounded by low, rocky islands, 
and again by low-lying, thickly-wooded ones. 

At 9 o'clock we came into a narrow channel, 
and for two hours it was very much like the 
St. Lawrence and the Thousand Islands ; for 
one moment we would be in a narrow channel, 
apparently not more than one hundred and fifty 
feet wide, and then we would enter a little 



ST. PETERSBURG TO STOCKHOLM. 123 

land-locked bay, without visible outlet, and in 
a twinkling would round a point, and catch a 
long stretch of beautiful, river-like expanse. 
And rarely a sign of human life! The sun set 
at half-past nine, the lovely afterglow flushed 
the western sky, and the moonlight grew brighter 
and brighter. It was enchanting! But about 
11 o'clock the wind arose, keen and cold, 
and reluctantly we " turned in," knowing every 
succeeding hour would be filled with wondrous 
natural beauty. But at six the next morning 
we were upon the deck. No word will portray 
the scene. The air was warm and lovely, the 
waters very calm. Soft and delicate lay the low, 
wooded shores, — islands upon every side, and a 
line of beauty at every glance. It was the wild 
loneliness of the Adirondacks, the picturesque 
confusion of the Thousand Islands, the placid 
beauty of Lake George, and the rugged shores of 
Mt. Desert, — all so mingled and interwoven, 
that like the Russian brocades it was one glorious 
sheen of gold. 

As we neared Abo, all along the pretty islands 
and rocky shores tasteful little Gothic and fanciful 
summer villas peeped out from among the trees, 
and it really seemed as if we must be somewhere 
in our own land. Entering a bay, apparently 
without outlet, we turned suddenly into a nar- 
row, canal-like river, lined with fine stone 



124 AN UNBECLOUDED WAY. 

quays, and double rows of trees. Again we were 
surprised by handsome buildings, wide streets, 
and a general expression of business alertness 
and prosperity. We took a carriage and drove 
to an observatory, upon a hill -top, which com- 
manded a beautiful view over the pretty town, 
almost buried in foliage, and way out upon the 
waters by which we came. Then we drove to 
the Cathedral of St. Henry, founded in 1300, 
which was really very fine, and quite recalled 
some of the English cathedrals, and the old 
German Gothic edifices. It is beautifully located 
upon a knoll and surrounded by fine old trees 
and a park. It is of brick, and wide and homely 
outside, but the interior, like all tall vaulted 
Gothic buildings, is impressive and solemn, 
although plain and rude in finish. It is called 
the "Cradle of Christianity in Finland," for the 
"first Episcopal chair was instituted in it." Side 
chapels, with colored family escutcheons, and 
quaint tombs, and a beautiful octagonal one, 
with superb granite sarcophagus, to the memory 
of a queen of Sweden who was a woman of the 
people, who wedded the king, and after his 
death and downfall retired to her native Finland 
to die, — make the place of great interest. 

At 7 o'clock we left Abo, and soon were 
threading our glorious way through islands great 
and small, islands of bare rock, and islands cov- 



ST. PETERSBURG TO STOCKHOLM. 125 

ered with low growth of evergreens. The only 
oak-trees in Finland are in this vicinity. It is 
useless to attempt to portray the breathless beauty 
and matchless glory of the ensuing three hours. 
We thought the previous evening was perfect, 
but this surpassed it. It was like sailing over a 
great, broad lake, dotted with innumerable and 
fairy-like islands, with waters calm and ruddy 
and golden in the late sunlight. Sometimes we 
would pass pleasure parties in pretty, nautical 
dresses, and with the national colors flying ; 
again, some vessel, "as idle as a painted ship 
upon a painted ocean; " and at times the only 
sign of life was the white-winged gulls and water- 
fowls. It was so warm that supper at 9 o'clock 
was served on deck. 

The suppers and breakfasts amused us very 
much. At one end of the table were "appe- 
tizers," a dozen or more plates of salt and dried 
fish, smoked and cooked cold meats, cucumbers, 
anchovies, sardines, and "such like," and in 
decanters all the dreadful Russian whiskey one 
chooses to drink. There is no waiting on the 
table. Every one takes a plate and helps him- 
self, and the hot courses that follow alone are 
passed. We thought the shore grew more bold 
and rocky, but at no time was it mountainous or 
even hilly. This low-lying line of mainland and 
islands at times seemed tame, and it is monoto- 



126 AN UXBECLOUDED WAY. 

nous ; but in such, weather it could never be tire- 
some, for it never ceased to be in expression and 
influence dreamy, poetical, and spiritual. We 
revelled in it all till midnight. The next morn- 
ing, from seven until twelve, nothing could have 
been more enchanting than the tranquil waters 
and sun-bathed shores. 

For a few hours before reaching Stockholm, 
the shores were bolder, and lovely cottages peeped 
out from woods and shady nooks. We passed a 
large fort and a pretty village, and then the 
waters and shores spread out, wonderfully like 
the Hudson, with here a costly villa, there a 
great, grim, square, and towered castle, looming 
up above the trees, — and everywhere beauty of 
outline and verdure. Two or three spires in the 
distance appeared above a mound-like island, 
and we knew the end was drawing nigh. We 
rounded the island, and with charming surround- 
ings upon every side, of lovely summer villas, 
etc., came into sight of the northern capital, and 
ere long fine structures, palaces and churches, 
described a semi-circle, which for exquisite 
delicacy and beauty of effect takes rank in our 
memory with Venice itself. Some one may come 
along in the rain and the cold, and, missing all 
the glory of summer seas and golden sunlight, 
tell a very different story; but with us the half 
has not been told. 



DENMARK. 



THE DANISH CAPITAL. 

Years ago, in the Danish department of the old 
Crystal Palace in New York, there was an exhibit 
of replicas in plaster of Thorwaldsen's famous 
statues of Christ and the Apostles. Colossal in 
size, imposing in effect, solemn in expression, 
and grand in conception, they made an impres- 
sion which intervening years have neither effaced 
nor destroyed. So, as we drew near to Copen- 
hagen, our thought was not of a characteristic old 
city, king's palaces, or galleries of pictorial art, 
but of the marble originals of these statues, 
standing in the place for which they were 
designed. We at once drove therefore to the 
"Frue-Kirke," or "Church of our Lady," which 
is the most ancient and best endowed church in 
the city. Founded in the twelfth century, it 
witnessed until 1660 the coronation of the suc- 
cessive kings and queens. It has suffered much 
by fire, and fearfully, in 1807, from the bombs of 
Lord Nelson's fleet. It is a great, massive build- 



128 THE DANISH CAPITAL. 

ing with a heavy tower, and statues of Moses 
and David by Thorwaldsen. After the ornate 
exteriors and gorgeous interiors of the ecclesias- 
tical structures of the Continent, it is dull and 
heavy, and within, cold and sombre. Thorwald- 
sen presented in 1838 these wonderful statues, 
and made it forever a shrine. 

The interior does not seem like a church, but 
rather a grand and majestic hall, made solemn 
and awe-inspiring by these white and stately 
figures. Entering, one sees at the extreme end 
an apse, with a frieze by Thorwaldsen, repre- 
senting the walk to Golgotha. Within this 
semi-circle stands a pediment, supported by 
columns framing a deep niche of dark terra-cotta 
hue. Beneath this stands, majestic and alone, 
the colossal figure of our Lord, with pierced out- 
stretched hands, as if repeating his own words 
inscribed below, " Come unto me all ye that labor 
and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." 
Before this stands the simple altar, or communion 
table, and, at equal distances, four tall bronze 
candelabra. The line of the semi-circle, or apse, 
is continued by a massive brass balustrade, which 
forms a large, irregular chancel, in the centre of 
which stands Thorwaldsen's baptismal font, — 
an angel kneeling and upholding an immense 
shell. This spacious chancel and unusually wide 
central aisle show the colossal figure of our 



COPENHAGEN. 129 

Saviour with fine effect. He stands in the soft, 
subdued light, as He always should stand in a 
place of Christian worship, the " chief among 
ten thousand, the one altogether lovely." 

Upon either side of the long nave are seven 
arches and six piers, supporting a recessed gal- 
lery with a long row of heavy columns. Between 
these arches, in front of every pier, stand the 
statues of Paul and the eleven Apostles (Judas 
Iscariot not being represented). The Apostles 
were modelled by Thorwaldsen, but sculptured 
by his pupils, the Saint Paul alone being wrought 
by him. There is a strange solemnity and aus- 
terity, but, at the same time, delicacy and grace, 
about all of these silent, simply-draped figures. 
The seraphic upturned face of Saint John seems as 
if he is about to write upon the book he holds some 
rapturous revelation. The Peter is heroic, but 
with a sad, wondering look. The Saint Thomas 
is lost in thought. Like many others, it is hard 
work for him to believe. The ceiling is round- 
arched and coffered, and has a slight tint of blue 
and touch of gold. Everything else is sombre 
and cold, perhaps intensified by all the light 
coming from sky-lights. 

After walking all around and looking carefully 
at every statue, we went to the end of the broad 
aisle, and gave ourselves up to the influence, 
expression, and spirit of the scene. As we 



130 THE DANISH CAPITAL. 

looked upon these two lines of solemn, earnest 
faces, the words of the Te Deum — "The glori- 
ous company of the apostles praise Thee " — 
seemed floating in the air; but somehow the gaze 
and thought gravitated to the distant but no 
longer colossal figure of our Lord. The whole 
expression of gesture, line, and feature is 
"Come!" In the hush and stillness of the 
grand but sombre place, looking long and intently 
at that gentle, majestic form, — 

" It seemed as if the Christ . . . 
Had come from heaven, to track us home. 
And any of the footsteps following us 
Might have been His." 

Leaving the church, instinctively we wended 
our way to the Thorwaldsen Museum, a national 
tribute to a single artist which is unequalled and 
unsurpassed the world over. The building, con- 
structed expressly to enshrine the plaster casts 
and a few marble rejjlicas of his works, is a mix- 
ture of Etruscan, Greek, and Egyptian styles, 
and is hideous, suggesting a tomb and a reservoir. 
Nor is the interior, with a sort of gaudy, Pompeian 
decorations, any more attractive. But the con- 
tents of the forty-two rooms form an epitome of 
a life of poetic inspiration and artistic aspira- 
tion. The two-storied building incloses an 
oblong, open court, paved and bare, in the centre 
of which, with a coping of polished granite, is 



COPENHAGEN. 131 

the ivy-covered grave of him whom the nation 
delighteth to honor. 

BERTEL THORWALDSEN. 
F. Den 19 Nov. 1770. D. Den 24 Martz 1814. 

It certainly was a pretty idea to lay him there, 
surrounded by the works of his hands, and the 
creations of his artistic spirit; but the effect is 
spoiled by the paved court and the encircling 
faqades being coarsely painted with palms and 
tropical trees. In a large room opening upon it 
are plaster casts of the sublimest of all his crea- 
tions, — the Christ and Apostles. One could not 
help picturing the open court as it would be with 
glass-protecting roof, and this one grave in the 
centre of fadeless green, surrounded and guarded 
by those grand and solemn attendants. At Pots- 
dam (near Berlin), in an open cloister of the 
church, to which is attached the mausoleum of 
the ill-fated Emperor Frederick William, sur- 
rounded by greensward, stands this immortal 
Christ (in bronze), placed there by the Empress 
Frederick, the solemnizing, subduing effect of 
which is superb, and demonstrates what the other 
could be made. In the rooms there is everything, 
from a delicate bass-relief of angels, eight inches 
long, to a colossal equestrian statue. One long 
room is filled with colossal figures for monuments 
and tombs. Medallions, friezes, busts, bass- 
reliefs, and statues fill room after room. 



132 THE DANISH CAPITAL. 

In one is his "Jason and the Golden Fleece," 
which made his fortune, and shaped his whole 
subsequent career. He was about leaving Rome, 
discouraged financially, but an error in his pass- 
port delayed him for a day or two. In the inter- 
val, Thomas Hope, a liberal English art-patron, 
entered his studio, saw the newly-modelled 
Jason, and gave him an order for it in marble. 
He took " fresh heart of grace," began a triumphal 
career, until at last he returned to Copenhagen, 
and was given room in the palace for the rest of 
his life. So the son of a poor Iceland wood- 
carver became the nation's idol and pride. In 
one corridor is a statue of him in his seventieth 
year, sculpturing a figure Hope. In another 
still rests upon his modelling-stand the bust of 
Luther, which he left unfinished. Two or three 
rooms are filled with furniture and articles used 
by him, — a most pathetic sight. Near by are 
the blackened and ruined walls of the old Royal 
Palace, destroyed, alas ! by fire in 1844. 

" Men said at vespers, * All is well/ 
In one wild night, the structure fell." 

The royal family now occupy a small and 
modest private palace. Although placed upon 
the throne by the Powers, the king is very popu- 
lar and much beloved. 

But more charming than any modern palace is 
the old Castle of Rosenberg, — right in the heart 
of the city, surrounded by and adjoining a lovely 



COPENHAGEN. 133 

park. The public park, in which is a statue of 
that prince of story-tellers, Hans Christian 
Andersen, is separated from it by a moat. It is 
now a museum, in most exquisite order. It is 
three or four stories in height, of stone, with 
towers and bay-windows, and statues, — all very 
quaint and picturesque. We passed through 
some twenty-five rooms of all sorts of shapes and 
sizes, with elaborately decorated ceilings, costly 
fire-places and mantels, carved wood, and hang- 
ings of rare old tapestries. The collection is 
considered one of the finest in Europe. Cases 
of court and historical costumes of velvet; silver 
and gold cabinets with jewelled watches ; orders, 
rings, brooches; numerous tankards, drinking- 
cups, and table vessels of silver and gold; ivory 
and amber carvings ; mosaics, rock crystal dishes ; 
enamels of all kinds; filigree silver, and curious 
cameos; and the greatest lot of richly-carved, 
antique furniture, — crowd the rooms to overflow- 
ing. Fountains, chandeliers, tables, chairs, 
enormous andirons and screens, and countless 
smaller articles, are all in solid silver. Dinner 
services in ormolu and glass, rich coronation and 
wedding robes, jewelled swords, royal plate, and 
most costly relics of the extinct royal family, 
fairly take the breath away. 

The third floor is the knights' hall, hung with 
costly tapestries. Here, at one end, under cano- 
pies of crimson velvet, are the two great corona- 



134 THE DANISH CAPITAL. 

tion-chairs. The king's is made of " Narwhale " 
teeth, which looks like ivory, and is profusely 
ornamented by silver-gilt statues and surmounted 
by an enormous brilliant. That of the queen is 
of solid silver. Before them are three enormous, 
solid-silver lions (the insignia of Denmark), in 
rampant and spirited attitude. Along the room 
are tall stands for candelabra, and, at the end, the 
royal baptismal font, all of solid silver. Two 
adjoining rooms are piled to the ceiling, upon 
brackets and shelves, with Murano glass, Chinese 
porcelains, and Meissen and Danish dinner-ser- 
vices of rare beauty. And from all this dizzying 
and bewildering mass of costly and superb things, 
one turns with a sense of relief and looks from 
the windows upon the lovely surroundings. From 
one we looked down upon a moat, bordered by 
enormous hawthorn-trees, which from ground 
to summit were as white as a snow-drift with 
blossoms, — and then off upon the great forest- 
trees, and lovely vistas of the adjoining public 
park. 

We made an excursion to "Fredericksborg," 
an old chateau palace, about an hour from the 
city, which has been magnificently restored, and 
is now the " national historical museum." It 
would take half a day to tell of its beauty of 
aspect and situation, and the magnificence of its 
contents. It is an imposing and extensive pile, 
and picturesque from any standpoint. Seen from 



COPENHAGEN. 135 

one side, the tall, picturesque pile, with its 
quaint towers and gables, rises Venetian-like 
from the waters like a beautiful vision. The 
collection distributed through the rooms is 
superb. The enclosed courts are lordly and 
aristocratic, and the whole pile is called "the 
most perfect thing in Europe.'' The chapel is 
unique, with ebony and silver pulpit and altar- 
piece, pews of exquisite "intarsia," or wood 
mosaic, fine pictures by old masters, a carved 
organ, painted and gilded till it looks like Dres- 
den china, and a wild exuberance of cool gray and 
pink and gold decorations. 

At one end, and overlooking the length of it, 
are the royal praying-rooms. The pictures in 
the king's are inserted in the panels, surrounded 
by inlaid wood, and are by Bloch, who is called 
the Rubens of Denmark. Looking the length of 
this edifice was like gazing at a perfect, flower- 
decked bower, and the whole pile surpasses any- 
thing we had seen in continental Europe. 

A drive through the city is very charming, for 
through one part stretches an immense basin or 
canal, broad like a river, lined with trees and a 
wide roadway, faced by long rows of fine build- 
ings. Old fortifications have been demolished, 
and a charming road laid out, shaded by double 
rows of limes, which looks off upon the harbor, 
and picturesque forts, and the blue sea. 



SWEDEN. 



THE VENICE OF THE NOBTH. 

A fair-faced homesick Swede at a country- 
house upon the border of our most beautiful lake, 
in speaking of America, exclaimed, "Oh, I luv 
Lake George ! " Not until years afterwards, 
when we sojourned for several days at Stock- 
holm, did we comprehend the pertinency of the 
exclamation, or understand the reason for its 
intense glow; for as we floated over the placid 
waters, passed through inlets or out into bays, 
or encircled fairy islands, we were continually 
reminded of our own Horicon. And yet there 
are no mountains. It is called "The Venice of 
the North," but it is not really like it. Still, there 
is nothing but that fairy city by the Adriatic 
that compares with the beautiful scene presented 
here. It also suggests Geneva and Marseilles, 
without markedly resembling either. Situated 
at the " influx of Lake Maclaren into an arm of 
the Baltic," covering rocky hills, islands, and 
plains, and surrounded by water and islands in 



STOCKHOLM. 137 

almost every direction, its every aspect is exceed- 
ingly picturesque and strikingly beautiful. 

It is no mean city, this metropolis of the 
north, the capital of Sweden's kingdom, with its 
227,000 inhabitants, its general air of comfort, 
thrift, and refinement, and its peerless beauty of 
situation and surrounding. We were just a little 
surprised, for we had not anticipated such a 
charming combination of material prosperity and 
natural beauty. We had seen so much of con- 
tinental Europe in mist and cloud and rain, and 
beneath cold and cheerless skies, that it seemed 
as if the superb and glorious weather, that lasted 
throughout our sojourn, so accentuated every 
point and line of beauty, that Stockholm became 
one of the brightest, happiest, and most enjoy- 
able memories of our whole tour. And then it 
was June! and great masses of delicate clustered 
lilacs, yellow laburnums, pink and white haw- 
thorn, and pink, flowering honeysuckles waved 
on every side. Mark Twain says "the time to 
visit every place in Europe is the month of 
June." Alas! that there is so much of Europe 
and so little of June! — not enough to go around! 

Our hotel was most fortunately located, for 
the front windows commanded the most striking 
and picturesque scene in the city. It was like 
a composition picture, or a scene set for a spec- 
tacular play. A line of fine buildings, palaces, 



138 THE VENICE OF THE NORTH 

churches, etc., facing stone quays, described a 
semi-circle which bent around the lake or bay. 
Directly opposite us rose a bold, rocky island, 
crowned with the extensive Royal Palace, in 
chaste, simple, Italian style, standing boldly and 
grandly against the sky. As we looked across 
the waters, passing rapidly toward the Baltic, we 
saw the gardens and front facade of this impos- 
ing palace above a mass of surrounding buildings, 
with a fine, double-arched bridge, connecting the 
rocky island upon which it stands with the main- 
land. At the base of this bridge, jutting out into 
the waters, was a beautiful semi-circular walled 
pleasure-ground, while in the near distance rose 
piles of large public buildings, and graceful 
spires. Looking in another direction, we could 
see lovely islands, placid waters, and farther on, 
the massive woods of the "Deer Garden," the 
great public park of the city. As we were there 
unexpectedly (having changed our route), we 
found ourselves upon our arrival literally with- 
out "purse or scrip; " so in the morning our first 
effort was to find the bankers and get some 
money, and a book-store and purchase a Baedaeker, 
— the two indispensable requisites to a tourist's 
comfort. Then we felt armed and equipped for 
the fray, and seeing at a short distance in a line 
before us the open portal to the court of the royal 
palace, "in we plunged boldly, 7 ' and in a few 



STOCKHOLM. 139 

minutes, as luck would have it, were walking 
leisurely through the lovely family rooms of 
their majesties. It is rarely one sees the private 
rooms in palaces, the suites shown being usually 
the gorgeous and showy state apartments. These 
were cozy, comfortable, and had the impress of a 
personal and characteristic taste. A private 
dining-room was hung with pictures and articles 
of silver plate, presented at the silver wedding 
of the king in 1882. A state dining-room in oak 
was richly decorated with clusters of brackets 
upon the oaken panels supporting tureens, dishes, 
and plaques of priceless old china. A little 
coveting, where there was so much, may have 
endangered the keeping of the commandment, 
but it was inevitable. A cozy drawing-room 
(looking very much as we would like ours to 
appear) was full of tables, easy-chairs, bric-a- 
brac, and books, one of which was "Illustrations 
of Yellowstone Park." A charming little circular 
room had a mantel, mirror frame, chandelier, 
sofa, and chair frames, all of exquisitely deco- 
rated Dresden china. In one room stood a superb 
delicate pitcher-vase of colored enamel upon 
copper, inlaid with jewels, which was presented 
by the Empress Eugenie, and is insured for 
twenty thousand dollars. In another is a tazza 
upon an antique silver and jewelled standard, 
valued at ten thousand dollars, — an English 



140 THE VENICE OF THE NORTH. 

silver-wedding gift. One long, hall-like apart- 
ment, divided in three by rich draperies, was 
ornamented with great groups of lovely blue and 
gold Sevres china, presented by Louis XVI., and 
hung with portraits of Hortense and Eugene 
Beauharnais, and other members of that family. 
There was a superb buhl cabinet, which once 
belonged to Marie Antoinette, and upon the 
piano lay a Persian rug, like an India shawl in 
design, and velvet in finish and texture, which is 
valued at five thousand dollars, and was pre- 
sented by the Sultan. There were also a large 
number of paintings given by Xapoleon to 
Josephine. We were caught napping ! VTe 
were there unexpectedly, and had not "read up," 
and so could not understand how so many por- 
traits and mementos of that family came there. 
The guide could only say "marriage," and faith- 
ful Baedaeker said nothing. Long afterward we 
learned that the daughter of Eugene Beauharnais, 
the son of Josephine, became by marriage the 
Queen of Sweden. 

The simplicity and domesticity of the present 
royal family is charmingly shown in the family 
sitting-room, which is full of photographs of 
children, grandchildren, and relatives, and in 
"my lady's chamber," where, with the rich fur- 
nishings, are many illuminated cards with texts, 
some of the loveliest of which are in English. A 



STOCKHOLM. 141 

few small, pretty rooms complete the suite. The 
king is said to possess very decided literary, 
musical, and scientific tastes, and is a wise and 
well-beloved ruler. The palace, which is four 
hundred and eight by three hundred and eighty- 
one feet, encloses a large, rectangular court. 
Across this we trudged to the opposite end, and 
ascended to the state apartments, some ten or 
twelve sumptuously and gorgeously appointed 
rooms, decorated with old tapestries, rich drape- 
ries, pictured panels, and a sheen of mirrors and 
gold. The banqueting hall, called the "White 
Sea," was very novel, being one hundred and 
forty feet long, and entirely in white and gold. 
The windows all commanded lovely and pictur- 
esque views over the city and suburbs. Ascend- 
ing a staircase, another suite of eight guest-rooms 
was shown, with exquisite bits of historical 
furniture. 

A few blocks away is the "Kiddarholm Kyrka," 
or church, where for centuries the members of 
the royal family and distinguished Swedes have 
been buried. It has not been used for service 
since 1807, except upon the occasion of a royal 
interment. It is a queer-looking pile, being a 
Gothic church, surrounded by chapels of a differ- 
ent style, and having a tall, open-work spire of 
iron. The interior is very curious, being rudely 
finished, with the side walls covered with a 



142 THE VENICE OF THE NORTH. 

patchwork of square escutcheons, with crests of 
all the defunct "Knights of the Seraphim," with 
here and there groups of captured battle-flags. 
In the side chapels are very beautiful sarcophagi. 
An immense one of green marble contains the 
body of the great Gustavus Adolphus; another, 
of black, with brass ornaments of lion skin and 
crown, that of Charles XII., and a massive one 
of red porphyry, that of Charles XV. Beneath 
these chapels in large, open rooms stand the 
royal coffins, covered with red, purple, and black 
velvet. The room now used is ceiled, walled, 
and paved with white and yellow crown-tiles. 
The velvet, gilt, and metals were very fresh, and 
the later caskets were covered with fresh flowers. 
Beside one stood a large copper urn, and on top 
of the casket a smaller one. When the old 
woman attendant was asked what they were, she 
screwed up her face and putting one hand on the 
large one, rubbed her other hand over her 
stomach. Then she pointed at the other and 
laid her hand on her heart. We understood as 
well as if Swedish was our vernacular, and it 
was irresistibly funny. 

Close to our hotel, facing the water, was the 
King's Garden, a pretty little park, with hand- 
some lawns, ribbon and mosaic flower-borders, 
and several bronze statues. We found all through 
the city numerous little parks and pleasure- 



STOCKHOLM. 143 

grounds, with a profusion of flowers and shrub- 
bery. We recall no city of its size with so many 
delightful " breathing-places." 

Facing the water also is the National Museum, 
a fine and imposing structure finished in 1865. 
The gallery of paintings compared with the col- 
lections we have so recently visited seemed 
inferior ; yet there were many paintings, espe- 
cially the modern Swedish ones, we would have 
been the poorer not to have seen. An extensive, 
varied, and superb collection of ceramics fills 
several large rooms, running the gamut in styles 
and colors, from Moorish Spanish to modern 
Sevres, and including the work of about every 
nation. Then there is an interesting and in- 
structive collection of antique Swedish furniture 
and interior carvings, and also a fine museum of 
Swedish antiquities of the flint, bronze, and iron 
ages. In the sculpture rooms was the loveliest 
"Sleeping Endymion " imaginable, which was 
found in Hadrian's Villa, that marvellous treasure- 
house at Tivoli. Somehow, in a moment, we 
were no longer in Sweden, but among the violets 
and anemones that star and deck that wreck and 
ruin of a wondrous past. But after all, the 
greatest charm of Stockholm is the large number 
of delightful excursions by land and water in 
every direction, which may be taken for almost 
nothing. Small steam-launches dart rapidly to 



144 THE VENICE OF THE NOHTH. 

and fro incessantly, while larger boats leave at 
longer intervals. As we had approached from 
the sea, we took only one of the longer excur- 
sions, that to "Drottning-holm," about three 
quarters of an hour away. It was a lovely trip, 
past closely-wooded and rocky shores, dotted 
with villas. The name signifies "Queen's gar- 
den island." A few moments' walk, and we 
stood before a quaint old palace. It is said to 
be sumptuously fitted up ; but we looked toward 
the garden and the cool, sequestered park, and 
said we were tired of the likes of the former, and 
hungry and thirsty for the latter, and so saun- 
tered along the avenues formed by grand old 
trees, and looked off upon billowy lawns, with 
Chinese pagoda and other structures. It was a 
picture of delicious quiet and repose, and it was 
good to be there. The day of our departure was 
the Midsummer Holiday, the longest day in the 
year. We took a four-hour drive, back in the 
country, visiting Carlberg Castle, and seeing its 
lovely park, — then to Solna Church, one of the 
most ancient in Sweden. It was very curious, 
being a circular, central structure with aisle and 
choir opposite in a straight line. Fine old black 
and white marble tombs, gayly painted and 
gilded, carved escutcheons, and quaint old chan- 
deliers and hour-glasses on the pulpit, made the 
interior very interesting. It was in the centre 



STOCKHOLM. 145 

of a beautiful cemetery, the most aristocratic in 
Stockholm. Many of the memorials were in- 
scribed with a duplicate of the person's auto- 
graph. Then we drove on to the Park and Palace 
of Hague, which was also very beautiful, and 
further on to the Park and Palace of Ulriesdael, 
close to a pretty arm of the Baltic. This last 
was a fine chateau, and is filled with old furni- 
ture, portraits, etc. The park is exquisite, 
having fine old trees, a wilderness of wild-flow- 
ers, and one grand and lovely avenue. 

This gives but faint idea of the beauty of 
Stockholm's suburbs; for constantly are seen 
stretches of water with low, wooded shores, 
sometimes like little rivers, but oftener like 
mountain lakes, which in the full verdure and 
floral display of June is perfect. As we returned 
we drove the whole length of the Deer Garden, 
the park of the city, a beautiful, rolling expanse, 
with unusually picturesque old oaks and forest- 
trees, and many lovely glimpses of water. It 
was a holiday. All the shops were closed and 
factories stopped, and it seemed as if every man, 
woman, and child was out. It made these parks 
bright with picturesque groups; for under the 
trees, upon every knoll, by the cool waters, and 
covering the hillside, were little family parties, 
with hammocks, baby-wagons, and provisions. 
Occasionally a bright national costume gave a 

VOL II. — 10 



146 THE VENICE OF THE NORTH. 

touch of acceptable color; and it did one good to 
see how bright and happy the people appeared. 
As later we moved rapidly away upon the train 
in the cool of the evening twilight, and looked 
back at our stay, we felt we could reiterate (with 
slight variation) very truthfully the maiden's 
ejaculation by our beautiful lake, " Oh, I luv — ■ 
Stockholm! " 



Bellagio. 



ITALY. 



AN EDEN OF TO-DAY. 

It is well-nigh impossible to speak in extrav- 
agant terms of the extreme beauty of the Italian 
Lake district in summer time. Eor from the 
head of Lake Como, along the length of Lake 
Lugano, and to the extremity of Lake Maggiore, 
is most emphatically in nature a " linked sweet- 
ness long drawn out." Perhaps this wondrous 
stretch of dreamy outline, of poetic expression, 
and of delicious color may be equalled; but, 
surely, all the broad world o'er, it cannot be sur- 
passed. The lakes are small, according to our 
American ideas; but all Europe seems contracted 
and diminutive to one accustomed to thinking of 
the space between Portland and San Francisco 
and Lake Superior and St. Augustine as "our 
country." Como boasts only of about thirty 
miles, every rood of which, however, is of trans- 
cendent loveliness, when clothed in summer 
verdure and trembling in delicious haze. 



148 AN EDEN OF TO-DAY. 

Lugano is hemmed in by mountains so lofty 
and irregular that there is a.n air of wildness and 
loneliness quite unlike, but none the less fasci- 
nating or bewitching than, the others. But 
Maggiore is a monotonous stretch of some thirty- 
seven miles of matchless and exquisite loveliness 
of form and color, that bewilders and intoxicates 
and fairly wearies with its absolute perfection. 

It was late in the afternoon of a sultry August 
day when we took the little steamer at the head 
of Lake Como. The cooling shadows of the 
western hills lay upon the placid waters, while 
the mountains upon the other shore were steeped 
and saturated with glowing sunshine and exqui- 
site color. And for an hour or two we floated 
along on our way to Bellagio, touching at several 
of the picturesque villages along the shore. The 
air was so soft and balmy, the outline of the 
mountains against the sky so tender, the color 
and the sheen of the great irregular slopes so 
exquisite, the tall campaniles along the shore 
and in villages which dotted the mountain-sides 
so white and pearly, the waters so delicate, that 
it seemed like a dream or realization of fairy- 
land. " Sunny Italy at last ! " we repeatedly ex- 
claimed, as we looked at the wealth of verdure, 
the shadow-flecked white walls and roads, and 
the picturesque features of the country life. The 
larger villages at which we touched were gor- 



THE ITALIAN LAKES. 149 

geous and resplendent with pink oleanders of 
enormous size, flowering shrubs, countless flower- 
borders, and exquisite trailing and pendant 
vires. At one place a child's funeral was 
about to take place. Some twenty little girls, 
dressed in white, with long flowing veils, and 
holding tall candles, waited near the church 
porch, whila a little platform car, with canopy, 
all of white and profusely ornamented with gar- 
lands of lovely flowers, and drawn by two tiny 
ponies, was being hurried to the scene. It was 
like a picture by Breton. And then, the numer- 
ous and pretty villas, half buried in the cool 
green of walnut and chestnut groves high above 
the waters, and the constant shifting of the 
scene, by the changing course of the steamer, 
was kaleidoscopic, and like a succession of bril- 
liant gems and jewels. The weather was perfect, 
and all nature seemed one glad, exultant, and 
contented song. 

The scenery of Lake Como cannot be under- 
stood by any comparisons. It may in a certain 
scene suggest some portions of the Highlands of 
the Hudson, and in another, lovely and peaceful 
Lake George, — and yet it is not the counterpart 
of either. Irregular in shape; hemmed in, 
almost everywhere, by lofty, graceful, moss- 
covered, and gray mountains; with white Italian 
villages of square, flat-roofed buildings, and tall, 



150 AN EDEN OF TO-DAY. 

square campaniles, rising solitary and alone, like 
a single finger pointing upwards; with every 
variety of mountain outline, and every shade of 
living green, — it possesses an individuality all its 
own. JSTo one word expresses its peculiar charm 
and expression as comprehensively as " loveli- 
ness." The green waters are like a priceless 
jewel, set in a verdant enamel. Along the 
mountain-sides are seams and fissures, which, as 
the sun strikes aslant, cast deep shadows, and 
give the whole sweep an appearance of burnished 
and greenish bronze. 

At seven o'clock we reached Bellagio, most 
charmingly located upon a bold promontory which 
divides the lake into two arms or bays, called 
respectively the Lakes of Lecco and Como. Our 
windows looked upon beautiful and spacious 
grounds, a mosaic of flower-beds and lawns, 
interspersed with stately palms, magnificent ever- 
greens, and numerous flowering shrubs. A bank 
at one end, and another in the rear of the hotel, 
were well-nigh obscured by a mass of pink and 
blue hydrangeas, and a wealth of trailing roses, 
a "sight to behold." Beyond the lovely grounds 
lay the lake, mirror-like in surface and bril- 
liancy, and on its opposite shore the glittering 
white hotels, villas, and houses of Menaggio, 
Cadeimbbia, and Tremezzo, at the foot of the 
lofty, green mountains. 



THE ITALIAN LAKES. 151 

A little way to our left lay the white village 
of Bellagio. Pleasure-boats, with awnings and 
gay flags, floated, to and fro; away in the dis- 
tance the mountains towered range beyond range 
into the sky, and an atmosphere of profound 
peace and quiet brooded over the scene, and 
filled the mind and heart. 

In the cool of the early morning the outlook 
was a heavenly vision of peace that "passeth 
understanding/' — a leading, indeed, "by still 
waters and green pastures " rarely experienced 
in any scene. And even when the full glare of 
the noonday sun made it one blaze of gold, 
scarcely relieved by shadow, it did not lose its 
heavenly peace and beauty. Long will that out- 
look, so absolutely perfect and profoundly beau- 
tiful, so cool and refreshing to the body, and 
so peace-giving and restful to the soul, linger 
in our memory. There is much "to do" at 
Bellagio, if one enjoys beautiful grounds and 
lovely views from elevated points ; for all 
around upon the hillsides are villas and ter- 
raced gardens, and along the shore numerous 
places of interest. 

We passed a delightful morning in a visit 
to the "Villa Carlotta," upon the opposite shore, 
— the property of a German princeling. Across 
the placid waters we were silently rowed in a 
barge protected by a canopy, enjoying exquisite 



152 AN EDEN OF TO-DAY. 

views of all the encircling hills, as well as the 
bolder and grander ranges beyond the Lecco arm 
of the lake. Too soon we reached a little land- 
ing-place, opposite which were tall, stone gate- 
posts, and lofty and handsome wrought- iron 
gates, all intertwined and picturesque with rose 
and other vines, which wreathed and well-nigh 
obscured the stone cherubs lifted in the air upon 
the posts, as upon pedestals. 

The villa is a straight up-and-down affair of 
four stories, built upon a terrace, quite above 
the shore, and approached within the gates by 
zig-zag stairways of stone, all enveloped with 
roses and vines and exquisite pendant ferns. 
From the balustrades hung great masses of coral- 
like bloom, and lovely, riotous clusters of roses, 
etc., hugged the sides of the walls. Only the 
first story of the villa is shown, — a hall, or ves- 
tibule, and two spacious salons. 

It was a vision of Italy, the Italy of story and 
song, presented by these cool and lofty rooms, 
with outlook through windows, along vistas of 
light and shadow, and glimpses of magnificent 
surroundings, basking in the full, bright sun- 
light. It was very hot without, but deliciously 
cool and refreshing within. The vestibule has 
a grand and costly frieze of the "Triumph of 
Alexander," by Thorwaldsen, which cost seventy- 
five thousand dollars, and several beautiful 



THE ITALIAN LAKES. 153 

statues by Canova. At one end stands his won- 
drous group of "Cupid and Psyche/' peerless, 
like the bronzed Mercury of John of Bologna,, in 
the Florentine Bargello, for its purity, delicacy, 
and spirituality of expression, and its airy grace 
and aerial lightness of limb and feature. It is 
the embodiment of passionless adoration and sur- 
render, of perfect grace and refined delicacy, and 
a miracle of technical workmanship in every 
detail. It does not seem possible that these two 
figures, so charmingly intertwined, can be sculp- 
tured from a solid block of adamant. Should 
they separate and float silently and quietly into 
the air, it would seem only natural, and occasion 
no surprise. It is a marvellous "triumph of 
mind over matter; " of lofty genius over the 
limitation of unyielding stone. One is filled 
with wonder that man dared to try to liberate it 
from a great, unshapely block of rough marble. 
The wings are joined on to the figure of Cupid, 
but all of the rest — the graceful limbs, the 
wonderful hands, the lithe and delicate forms — 
are cut from a single block. 

We tarried long in the surrounding grounds, a 
paradise of beauty, an arboretum of innumerable 
choice trees and exquisite shrubs, all rollicking 
and luxuriating in the hot Italian sunshine, as if 
it was a joy to live. At one side the grounds 
are arranged in the old-fashioned Italian style, 



154 AN EDEN OF TO-DAY. 

with terraces, long, over-arched, and shaded alley- 
ways, and a charming bower, looking out through 
vistas of cool, overhanging boughs of evergreens, 
upon the gleaming lake and the lovely "other 
shore." Along the terrace walls great showers 
of fuchsia blossoms trembled; around statue or 
column entwined huge masses of a species of 
"trumpet creeper," throwing out into the air 
graceful sprays of gorgeous flowers; roses in 
wild, exultant profusion hung upon every side; 
while a great variety of coniferous trees, great, 
glowing magnolias, and glistening laurels and 
rhododendrons appeared in groups, or long, cool 
vistas. The luxuriance of foliage and variety 
of growth was tropical and jungle-like in charac- 
ter and appearance. Close to the villa stands a 
superb and enormous magnolia, said to be over a 
hundred years old, with an immense trunk, and 
long, outstretching branches, which, lying upon 
the ground, form the base of a huge, conical 
pyramid of great, glossy leaves and beautiful 
seed-pods, which towers high in air. To see this 
in full bloom would alone be worth the journey 
over the Alps. 

Upon the opposite side, the grounds are a per- 
fect contrast, being in the English style, with 
the trees and shrubs in groups, and the arrange- 
ment less formal and conventional. Great, 
beautifully-developed evergreens of immense 



THE ITALIAN LAKES. 155 

variety, and fine trees of almost every species, 
rise from grassy banks ; hillsides are covered in 
some places with close growth of azaleas, and 
roses and flowers of every kind glow with colors 
brilliant and beautiful. Great lush-red roses 
appear in huge clusters up in the branches of 
dark evergreens. Ferns, cyclamen, ivy, and 
countless plants appear upon every side as if 
spontaneously. And as if this wondrous variety 
of hillside, trees, flowers, and shrubs was not 
enough, continually through the thick-matted 
or low-bending tree-boughs views rapturously 
beautiful of the peaceful lake and the verdant, 
graceful hills appear. Myrtles, glistening and 
green in foliage, entwined with roses, white and 
rare, delight the eye. And as we neared the 
villa again we passed beneath a bower covered 
with growth of lemon and citron, with golden 
fruit pendant from the trellis roof. Eeluctantly 
we turned away from this miniature Eden, 
and, crossing the lake, awaited the afternoon, 
which was to furnish us with a boat-excursion 
to Como. 

A boat-ride of two and one half hours, with 
such surroundings of form and color as are seen 
between Bellagio and Como, is not to be spoken 
of lightly. Yet words fail to picture the loveli- 
ness and grace of that wondrous panorama of 
hill and mountain side, of soft, delicious color, 



156 AN EDEN OF TO-DAY. 

and of dreamy visions of heavenly peace and 
rest. 

The scenery of the lake does not vary. What 
is said about one part applies literally to all. 
The same lofty green and gray mountains upon 
every side, and the same little villages along the 
shore, or perched upon shelves upon the moun- 
tain-sides, and the same placid, glistening, green 
waters, are everywhere visible. At times the 
rounded heads of the mountains, lifted high in 
air, were so closely clothed in verdure as to 
appear as if covered with moss, or as a gentleman 
by us remarked, as " if they had had their hair 
cut." 

Many of the most picturesque villas with 
lovely grounds, colonnades, etc., and many of 
the most important towns and huge palatial 
hotels, lie along this enchanted way. We found 
Como fairly broiling in the afternoon sun, and 
contented ourselves with a stroll through the 
cool, shadowy arcades of its narrow streets, and 
a visit to the duomo, or cathedral. It is a queer 
architectural mixture, within and without; but 
with its marble exterior and sculpturings, its 
elaborate ceiling, and stately dome, it is con- 
sidered the best in Northern Italy. Statues of 
the older and the younger Pliny (who were born 
at Como) adorn the front of the cathedral, upon 
either side of the main portal. A statue of Volta, 



THE ITALIAN LAKES. 157 

the great electrician (whose name, however, is 
much more firmly perpetuated in the "volts " of 
to-day), stands near the quay. 

The situation of the busy little town with 
twenty-five thousand inhabitants is beautiful, as 
it is encircled by an amphitheatre of mountains 
and hills. But the heat was so intense we were 
glad to take the steamer again, which soon 
brought us into the cool, delicious shadows of the 
lofty mountains; and we passed on through miles 
of tremulous haze, and atmosphere of intoxicat- 
ing peace, to Bellagio. An hour or two later the 
white moonlight gave the last perfecting touch 
to the serene and heavenly beauty of the scene 
from our windows. 

Alas ! that there should be no rest for the sole 
of the tourist's foot ! Although, like many 
another, very often his " willing soul would stay 
in such a frame as this," yet if he ever expects 
to get through Europe, he must " forever on, 
like seaweed tossed." And we were no excep- 
tion to the inexorable rule. 

In the cool of the early morning we crossed 
the lake to Menaggio, where we took a narrow- 
gauge road, and ascended the hillside rapidly, 
having exquisite views as we looked down upon 
the waters, and across upon Bellagio, and to the 
mountain-ranges beyond. The road bent and 
curved through a charming country upon a hill- 



158 AN EDEN OF TO-DAY, 

side, overlooking at times a pretty, inland valley, 
and passing through a long tunnel, reached its 
highest elevation of twelve hundred and fifty feet. 

In an hour we had descended and were upon 
the shore of Lake Lugano. It is none the less 
beautiful than Como, but as it is wilder it is 
more grand, solitary, and impressive. The 
mountains are often higher, and it seems more 
withdrawn and reserved. Como seems to laugh 
with exultant and exuberant life, while Lugano 
seems wrapped in earnest and solemn thought 
and purpose. For an hour we passed picture 
after picture along its wild and lonely mountain 
shore; and then, suddenly rounding a point, we 
came into a bright and lovely bay, upon the oppo- 
site shore of which, far away, appeared the tiled 
roofs and tall campaniles of the little village of 
Lugano, — a beautiful surprise. 

A wait of two hours, and we took another 
steamer and journeyed the length of the lake, 
looking back at the villa-dotted environs of 
Lugano, and up to the summit of San Salvatore 
(the loftiest mountain of all), which, from our 
constant turning into deep bays to make land- 
ings, seemed placed before us in an infinite 
variety of form, and at most unexpected moments. 
It was marvellous in its cloudlike softness and 
delicacy of form and outline. At one place a 
railway embankment crosses an arm of the lake. 



THE ITALIAN LAKES. 159 

The smoke pipe was lowered as we passed beneath 
arches in the centre. We made two or three 
landings and then entered a narrow river- like 
strait, and soon reached "Ponte Tresa," where 
we disembarked, and again (after a vexatious 
customs examination) took a narrow-gauge road, 
and, ascending, passed through a fertile and busy 
valley, close to a rushing and picturesque river, 
until we came to Luino on Lake Maggiore. 
There we took a steamer for thirty-seven to forty 
miles progress through all that constitutes love- 
liness and beauty of scenic effect. Its greater 
width (varying from two to five miles) makes 
the views finer and grander than the other lakes. 
One is far enough away to take in the whole 
effect of the mountain-ranges, while the same 
delicious stillness and enchanted colorings of the 
others brood and rest upon it. 

It seems more like our country in that the 
views are so far outreaching and extensive. 
Along the sloping shores the villages glisten and 
gleam; often a wall-protected road is seen, hug- 
ging the base of forbidding mountains; and all 
the features of Como and Lugano, and often 
those of Switzerland, pass before the eye. It is 
a dream, a vision, a scene which surpasses all 
that imagination can conjure. The lake is so 
wide that one can look long and dwell upon its 
wondrous surroundings. At first the glare and 
heat were tiresome, for the sun was not hidden 



160 AN EDEN OF TO-DAY. 

as early as upon lovely Como. But as the day 
wore on, the low-descending sun bathed the dis- 
tant mountains in tints of blue and purple, which 
against a soft, yellow, glowing sky produced an 
exquisite effect. An hour or more later, as we 
rounded a cape, far away against the glowing 
western sky appeared the snowy crests of the 
Simplon, and others of the Monte Eosa Alpine 
group ; and all the rest of the way before us was 
this wondrous spectacle of warm summer sea, 
green mountain heights, dark, grim Alpine 
mountains, and these lofty peaks, seamed and 
ribbed with lines of white, raising their snowy 
crests against a glory of deep orange, melting 
amber, and liquid gold. 

In the gathering hush of evening, as we neared 
the end of the lake, the Borromean Islands, float- 
ing like gardens unanchored and unconfined, 
appeared in view. A stop at Pallanza and 
Baveno, a gliding across smooth waters, and we 
were at Stresa, and the long, golden day was 
done. It was the evening of the Festa of the 
Assumption of the Virgin, and from various hill- 
tops bonfires glowed, and the little villages upon 
far-away mountain-slopes were a blaze of twink- 
ling lights. Across the bay came often the 
soft tinkle of distant bells, in far-away white 
campaniles. 

The view from Stresa is superb, sweeping a 
wondrous panorama of Alps upon Alps; of moun- 



THE ITALIAN LAKES. 1G1 

tains, billowy in outline, shadowy and tender in 
color, of wide expanse; of glistening, shimmer- 
ing waters; of the pretty Borromean Islands, 
like bits of fairyland lying upon the smooth 
bosom of the lake; across the bay the town of 
Pallanza; and here and there, upon the heights 
beyond, the white gleam of villas or villages. 
Until these Italian towns are seen basking and 
revelling in the hot, noonday, summer sun, no 
real conception of the ideal beauty of the white- 
walled, red-roofed piles can be gained. They 
seem to absorb the sun, and in its delicious 
warmth stand out like a soft, tropical flow^er. 

Early the next morning we took a row-boat, 
for three or four hours, among the islands. 
They number four, bat only two belong to and 
bear the name of the Borromeo family. Quite 
near to the Stresa shore floats the lovely Isola 
Bella, like a hanging-garden of Babylon, with 
terraced gardens, rising in pyramidal form, with 
ornaments of statues and turrets suggesting a 
pagan temple or place of worship. From our 
windows nothing could be more fairy-like or 
artificial; for all we see rising from the waters 
are arches and terraces, two octagonal towers, 
and a group of great sombre evergreens. It 
fairly floats, and if unmoored might drift most 
naturally away, an argosy of bright and beautiful 
things. But beyond and hidden is a church, a 

VOL. II. — 11 



162 AN EDEN OF TO-DAY. 

group of houses, and a large and commodious 
palace. In the seventeenth century a count of 
Borromeo built a chateau there, and converted 
the barren rock into a "midsummer night's 
dream," making some ten terraces, one above 
another, graduated in size, and rising a hundred 
feet above the lake, and stocked it with "lemons, 
cedars, magnolias, laurels, camphor, cork, olean- 
ders, and other southern trees;" and now, for 
two hundred years, the desert place has blos- 
somed like the rose. 

We passed through the palace (in which 
Napoleon slept after Marengo) and hurried to 
the fairy-like terraces. The wonderful variety 
of trees, flowers, and shrubs would make any 
place delightful. Upon the first great terrace 
was an immense camphor tree, with long, glossy 
leaves (no odor but a very decided flavor), and 
twenty enormous oleanders, brilliant with thou- 
sands of great pink blossoms. We smiled as we 
thought of those we see at home . in pots and 
boxes, and call large, for these were twelve and 
fifteen feet in height and fully twelve in dia- 
meter. Stone stairways lead to each of the nar- 
row terraces which form a pyramid, the highest 
one making a pleasant promenade with superb 
outlook over land and water. Ivies and japoni- 
cas, roses and bignonia grandiflora, cover the 
terrace walls, wreathe the rude statuettes and 
turrets, and hang in great, voluptuous masses 



THE ITALIAN LAKES. 163 

of color and blossom which wave to and fro with 
every breeze. Vulgar and artificial though it is, 
the wealth of foliage and wilderness of blossom 
make it a veritable paradise. Upon a broad, 
lovely terrace to one side are a number of great 
evergreens, including some "American Pines," of 
great size. It was all like a play, a story, or a 
poem. Pictures formed themselves at every 
turn, — in the arches, mantled with ivy or trail- 
ing vines, or the stone staircases or balustrades, 
wreathed with floral bloom or green boughs, — 
while the views toward Pallanza and over the 
lake were enchanting. White jasmine bloomed 
upon every side; great white and blush roses 
seemed everywhere; peacocks, in an immense 
evergreen, made a picturesque feature, while the 
soft plumage of doves could be seen in overhang- 
ing boughs, and their soft cooing continually 
heard. All the while the sun glowed and burned ; 
but the breeze was cool and refreshing, and the 
infinite variety of branch and twig, of leaf and 
flower, made us indifferent. It seemed as if the 
wealth of a tropical clime was at our feet, and 
enveloped us in a glory of form and color. 

A row of fifteen minutes brought us to Isola 
Madre, laid out in seven great, broad, matter- 
of-fact terraces, upon one side covered with 
orange and lemon trellises. A large, homely, 
unoccupied palace crowns the upper terrace; but 



164 AN EDEN OF TO-DAY. 

the rest of the island is like a bit of England, 
with its undulating surface, ornamented with 
winding paths and groups of trees, effective and 
beautiful. Here, too, we would come upon 
shaded nooks where, by a handsome iron rail, 
one might sit and look off upon a view framed in 
most exquisitely by low-hanging vines and 
boughs. Flowers and vines and shrubs, ever- 
greens of endless variety, and a grand collection 
of rare trees, make it a beautiful spot. The out- 
look from these islands is something wonderful, 
— full of grandeur, yet soft and dreamy. One 
gazes upon warm and sunny waters; farther on, 
upon sombre hills, and then upon the glaciers 
and white peaks of Simplon; and to one side 
upon the great, glittering, white granite rocks 
of Baveno, and upon the other, over Pallanza, and 
the lower hillsides, covered with chestnut, fig, 
and olive trees, studded with a myriad of white, 
pearl-like villas, — a marvellous combination of 
alpine and southern characteristics, of snow and 
wild luxuriant verdure, and of stern grandeur 
and soft, sensuous loveliness of outline and color. 
Was it a wonder we called this whole Italian 
Lake country a paradise, "an Eden of to-day " ? 
The trail of the serpent doubtless could be 
easily found ; but we looked not for it, and so 
were conscious neither of its presence nor its 
blight. 



THE BRIDE OF THE SEA. 

Hackneyed and commonplace as they may be, 
no lines hold more of the subtle charm and pecu- 
liar fascination of Venice than — 

" There is a glorious city in the sea : — 
The sea is in the broad, — the narrow streets, 
Ebbing and flowing; and the salt sea-weed 
Clings to the marble of her palaces." 

Mystical and weird, spectral and dreamlike, 
the beautiful fairy-like city rises from the 
waters, and so floats upon the surface that, like 
the mists of the valley, it seems as if it will dis- 
appear at the approach of the God of day. Its 
character is unique ! All the world over, there 
is nothing like unto it. The more, therefore, is 
it to be regretted that it is the victim of remorse- 
less decay. Years ago we reached the railway 
station (a long way from the hotels) at midnight. 
The moon was at the full ; the air was soft and 
balmy. For a little time we had seen in the dis- 
tance, floating apparently in the delicious haze, 
the outlines of domes and towers and palace 
roofs, touched as if with burnished silver. Sit- 
ting in a gondola, we passed silently through 



166 THE BRIDE OF THE SEA. 

wide, narrow, and tortuous canals, — the mystic 

streets of the phantom-like city. Not a sound 

save the calls of our own or an approaching 

gondolier, — ■ 

" We went 
As to a floating city, steering in, 
And gliding up lier streets, as in a dream, 
So smoothly, silently, by many a dome, 
Mosque-like, and many a stately portico." 

It was the Venice of poetry, song, and pictorial 
art. Never have we forgotten the suppressed 
excitement and delight of that hour, which was 
so keen as to be well-nigh painful. The quiet, 
shimmering waters, the silvery light, the ebon 
shadows, and the fairy-like outlines of rich, 
Gothic facades, formed a scene of enchantment 
that made every poetic and artistic sense vibrate 
with delight. Again, in these later years, we 
entered by the same portals upon a warm, sunny 
afternoon. Copious showers, early in the day, 
had freshened every fagade. As silently, but 
quite as excitedly, we passed along canals grand 
and diminutive, — 

"By many a pile, in more than eastern pride 
Of old, the residence of merchant kings ; 
The fronts of some, tho' Time had shattered them, 
Still glowing with the richest hues of art, 
As though the wealth within them had run o'er." 

But the dethroned Queen is very much like the 
little girl with a curl, — 



VENICE. 167 

" Who when she was good was very, very good, 
But when she was bad she was horrid." 

For Venice in a drizzling rain, in cold, raw, 
leaden weather, tells no flattering tale. Veil it 
as we may, her glory is departed to come not 
back again. The numberless narrow canals, so 
picturesque when bathed in glorious sunlight or 
silvery moonlight, are gloomy, dingy, and for- 
bidding, and have a general air of debility, rheu- 
matism, and forlornness only found or approached 
in a public charity-hospital. And the grand and 
delicately-designed Gothic facades, all bedrag- 
gled and discolored and marred and disfigured by 
decay, are sad and pathetic in their desolation 
in the rain. But the traveller, if he would enjoy 
much of Europe, must adopt the legend upon the 
sun-dial: "I mark only the hours that shine." 

Concrete Venice is easily inventoried. A 
shallow bay of the Adriatic Sea, with one hun- 
dred and seventeen small islands, all within a 
radius of six and one half miles, forms her singu- 
lar site, — fifteen thousand houses, one hundred 
and fifty canals, three hundred and seventy-eight 
bridges, churches as thick as leaves in Vallom- 
brosa, and palaces literally without number. In 
the fifteenth century she was the focus of European 
commerce, and held immense power and posses- 
sions in the Orient; but in that same century she 
lost Constantinople, and with it her supremacy 



168 THE BRIDE OF THE SEA. 

in the East. The history of the Kepublic, blaz- 
oned by grand old masters upon the walls of her 
public buildings, is a perfect glory of power and 
a dazzle of riches. Now, "none so poor to do 
her reverence." Venice is the plaything of the 
world, and, alas ! the toy is getting a little 
shabby, and needs extensive repairs. 

But ideal or idyllic Venice is not so easily 
portrayed, for it consists not so much in what 
is seen, as in that which is suggested by it. It 
is all so unlike the rest of the world, that one is 
under an irresistible spell; and floating quietly 
over the placid waters, the long, narrow outlooks 
cease to be palace-lined canals, but vistas of pic- 
turesque and dreamy beauty, drawn by a lim- 
ner's brush upon a canvas. The worn, dilapi- 
dated structures, rising from the waters, become, 
with their lesson of the transitoriness of earthly 
greatness, a poem of pathos, and a song in plain- 
tive minor key, which make the soul vibrate 
with sentiment and emotion. Like a network, 
the one hundred and fifty canals interlace one 
another, giving a myriad of beautiful and start- 
ling pictures, — here an elaborately ornamented 
fagade; there a hanging-garden; frequently an 
overarching balcony; and everywhere a profuse 
and voluptuous witchery of picturesqueness and 
beauty. Like a great, sinuous serpent, the Grand 
Canal winds and bends through the heart of the 



VENICE. 169 

enchanting city. Grand it is in every sense of 
the word, — this wide, magnificent waterway, 
lined with superb old palaces, rising ghost-like 
from the placid waves, and spanned by the one 
familiar bridge, Kialto, in which every lover of 
the "Merchant of Venice" recognizes an old 
friend. 

You must, however, know how to read between 
the lines, for there is much you must not see. 
You must look beyond the hideous trade-signs, 
the shabby repairs, and the dingy, tumble-down 
look of defunct wealth and departed aristocracy. 
Along the whole line of the Grand Canal there 
are but two palaces which, to our modern, west- 
ern eyes and sense, seem consistent or perfect, 
although there are many which would satisfy 
Continental demands. One is the late residence 
of Eobert Browning, and the scene of his death; 
the other that of Baron Hirsch, who could well 
afford to put the whole line of the Canal in the 
same order. 

To sit quietly in a gondola, and move along its 
course in an atmosphere tremulous with golden 
haze, is to see a line of ancient palaces with 
Gothic fret-work and conceits, and traces of 
former gilding and coloring, and quaint and fan- 
ciful outlines against the sky ; while at the base 
of these picturesque piles the water laps and 
plays with soft motion and musical tone, and all 



170 THE BRIDE OF THE SEA. 

seems a fantasy or dream. A remorseless fact, 
however, stares one continually in the face: 
Venice is a pitiful ruin, with a general appear- 
ance of dilapidation, of tumbling to pieces, which 
is extremely pathetic. Nothing but money can 
restore or save it, and that is the one thing Italy 
sadly needs in every department. Commerce 
and manufactures might build up this beautiful 
wreck by the sea; but this is not probable, 
beyond a trade for its pretty glass and mosaic 
work, and exquisite carving of woods. Its 
famous velvets can be produced to-day more 
cheaply at Spitalfields than here. Gradually 
hotels, and vulgar trade in such lines as will 
catch the crowds of tourists, are possessing 
palace after palace on the Grand Canal; and the 
exquisite vagaries of Venetian Gothic windows 
and Renaissance balconies and facades rise above 
the chrysoprase waters, dotted with wares for 
sale, from the dainty, silken slippers of the 
dames of the old regime to the last creation of 
Murano glass or Italian carving. 

One wonders if anywhere in the broad world 
there is spectacularly or architecturally more 
beauty, picturesqueness, or grandeur than that 
which spreads out like a vision as one sits in a 
gondola in the open waters at the beginning of 
the Grand Canal, and sees the island of San 
Georgio, with its church and tall campanile; 



VENICE. 171 

farther on, the white marble pile and dome of 
Delia Salute, the exquisite palace of the Doges, 
and the columns and the peerless campanile of 
the Piazza, and the clustered domes and minarets 
of San Marco. 

There are no monotonous hours in Venice when 
the weather is fine; some odd and interesting 
phase of life may always be seen. Although no 
sound of wheels, no click of horses' hoofs, are 
ever heard, yet you may go on foot all over the 
city by narrow streets and tiny bridges, and can 
never be quite lost in the labyrinth, for a white 
line set in the pavement, if followed, will always 
bring one to the Grand Piazza, and the holy 
shadows of San Marco. 

One day we chanced to be upon the outskirts 
of the city, looking upon the calm and quiet 
waters of the open bay, gleaming with the sun- 
light. From a neighboring canal, across the 
perfectly quiet scene, moved quickly a gondola 
containing scarlet-robed priests. Another fol- 
lowed; and a moment later one draped to the 
water's edge with festoons of black cloth bor- 
dered and striped with white. In the centre, 
upon a raised catafalque, or platform, rested a 
casket covered by a large, full, black pall, with 
white trimmings. Before it sat a man and a 
boy. At the bow and stern were two gondoliers 
in black. Silently they moved across the stretch 



172 THE BRIDE OF THE SEA. 

of placid waters, toward the Campo Santo, upon 
the opposite island. Some one was thus going 
to the long home. The scene was deeply im- 
pressive and serious, — the long stretch of 
glistening waters, the glimpse of the great sea 
beyond, the smoothly-gliding gondolas, the grace- 
ful bending in unison of the silent gondoliers, 
and the expression of perfect peace and absolute 
repose over all, 

Again, just as we were leaving the city we 
saw the preparations for the burial of a high 
military and noble official. The gondolas were 
profusely draped with palls embroidered in 
gold. Candles, palms, and floral emblems were 
plentiful, and an army, with silken banners, 
crowded the little plaza between the canal and 
the church, where the requiem mass was 
proceeding. It was all dramatic and spectac- 
ular; but one could not help thinking how 
much more solemn and quiet than our proces- 
sions of hearse and coaches clattering over 
the stones was this silent passing out to sea, 
this " crossing the bar," — to come not back 
again forever. 

The use of marble, gold, and color in the con- 
struction of the church edifices in Venice is 
profuse and lavish, but not always with the best 
effect or in a refined taste, for exasperating 
incongruities and absurd inconsistencies are con- 



VENICE. 173 

tinually apparent. So many have not their 
jackets on ! These present a crude, rough 
exterior of brick which was meant subsequently 
to be covered with a slicing of marble, but which 
was either never done, or has partially disap- 
peared. It is not unusual to see a facade, one 
half covered with superbly-wrought and exqui- 
sitely-sculptured marble, while the other half is 
an unsightly stretch of rough, common brick. 
Nor are the interiors much more harmonious. 
The most delicate sculpturings, the most mag- 
nificent bronze, and priceless canvases are 
" cheek by jowl" with tawdry ornamentations 
and plastered gewgaws ; and over all is dirt and 
grime, that makes one wish an army of house- 
wives, equipped with brooms, sapolio, etc., 
would appear. The marbles are discolored, the 
gold tarnished, and the colors dimmed. 

It is necessary to visit a multitude of these 
buildings, for one will have a painting worth 
crossing the sea to behold; another will have 
carvings, or bronze, or tombs; and many, grand 
architectural effects. But one feels very much 
like a rag-picker, who goes searching in every 
ash-barrel, lest perchance he find a jewel. Think 
of a Titian, glowing and burning with soft, 
melting colors, with grouping and outlines of 
exquisite grace, and overflowing with tender, 
delicious sentiment, hanging in a dark^ dank, 



174 THE BRIDE OF THE SEA. 

diDgy church, where we would begrudge a com- 
mon chromo; or a priceless marble, a poem or 
Te Deam in stone, or a grand old bronze, in 
an edifice cluttered up with incongruous and 
unfinished designs, and bouquets of tissue-paper 
and gilt, tinsel flowers. No, don't think of 
it ! Just read between the lines, and see the 
glories of architecture and the triumphs of 
divine Art, and be glad so much has come into 
your life. 

There are, of course, exceptions. San Georgio, 
with its square campanile and attendant build- 
ings, is always a dignified and finished feature 
in the landscape. Its interior is cold and plain, 
but imposing, while the wood carvings in the 
choir are marvellous. Delia Salute, with its 
white dome and its glory of Titians within, is 
familiar to every one. The Church of the Frari 
is a museum, fairly grotesque in details. Titian 
lies there beneath or within an immense archi- 
tectural tomb, covered with bass-reliefs, and orna- 
mented with statues, all in purest marble. 
Opposite lies Canova, in a tomb he designed for 
Titian, which is also repeated in Vienna over 
the grave of an Austrian archduchess. It is a 
pyramid, with half-opened door, and a procession 
of funereal figures about to enter. Way up upon 
the walls are bracketed quaint and beautiful 
tombs, dark with age. But amidst the wilder- 



VENICE. 175 

ness of marbles, etc., the one gem is Titian's 
Madonna, over the altar of the Pesaro family. 

The most spacious and imposing of all is that 
of St. Giovanni and St. Paolo. The interior 
presents Gothic arches, a beautiful apse, huge 
columns, a central done, and stately tombs of 
many of the Doges, which are marvellous in 
size, sculpturings, and colors. In the church-like 
Chapel of the Rosary, attached to it, was hnng 
Titian's masterpiece, Saint Peter Martyr, which, 
with the magnificent carved wood of the interior, 
was destroyed by fire in 1867. 

San Marco, the noblest of them all, does not 
impress one as a building, but as a creation, — a 
fairy-like fabric, a growth, a great tropical 
flower, a dream, or a wild, sensuous, Oriental 
poem in stone, mosaic, and gold. It is a wilder- 
ness of fancy, a harmony as varied and indescrib- 
able as the spray-tossed waves of the sea as they 
break along a sunny beach. Seen from the 
Piazza, against a clear, warm, blue Italian sky, 
bathed in sunlight, with its gilded domes and 
fanes, its gables and minarets, with tumnltnons 
masses of floral forms, its statues of saints, its 
soft but brilliant mosaics, its glowing colors, and 
its multitude of beautiful thoughts crystallized 
in stone, it seems not of earth, but of the 
Apocalyptic vision, — of the new Heaven and 
the new Earth. It is Oriental and mosque-like; 



176 THE BRIDE OF THE SEA. 

but it is so fanciful and dainty that it is like a 
grand old parterre, the flower-borders of which 
have grown up in riotous splendor, unchecked 
and uncared for, until a confusion of lovely forms 
and blossoms and colors has overrun the whole 
space. It is indescribable, except that in form 
it is a Greek cross, with equal arms, " covered 
with Byzantine domes over the centre, and at 
end of each arm." Across the front is a flat- 
roofed vestibule, upon which stand the four 
famous gilded horses, — a queer decoration for a 
church, but somehow not at all inharmonious. 
Some five hundred marble columns, with richly 
varied capitals, adorn the building within and 
without. The front facade shows exquisite, 
tinted columns, along the entrance doors; above, 
a balustrade and the horses ; then great, glorious 
mosaics in the arches, above which spring a sort 
of gable, ending in acanthus leaves tossed in air, 
terminating with small figures of saints, little 
canopy-like turrets, finished in gold, and above, 
the roof of the great dome, with golden finials 
and balls. The interior is beyond all praise or 
description. It is dingy, remember; but the 
tout ensemble is superb ! It matters little what 
its form and character may be, whether Greek 
or Latin cross, pointed or round arch. One 
hardly thinks of it in detail, so intoxicating, 
bewildering, yet soothing, is the combined effect 



Interior San Marco, Venice. 



u 



VENICE. 177 

of form and color. There is a sheen of gold 
everywhere, a blush of color in all places; a 
soft blending of column and arch, and screen and 
pulpit, in the time-tinted alabaster and marble. 

As one sits absorbing the exquisite solemn 
tone of it, a gleam of sunshine from a different 
angle or distant window may alter the whole 
scene. Arched roof, covered with colored 
mosaics, upon a solid golden ground; columns 
of various colored marbles ; side walls of veined 
alabaster, almost russet with the accretions of 
years; hanging-lamps of exquisite form; a pul- 
pit with pagoda-like canopy; a tall, sculptured 
screen across the entrance of choir, with a balus- 
trade and columns of lovely and varied colors, 
and upon the top fourteen marble figures of rich 
brown, amber-like tint; above the High Altar, a 
canopy upheld by quaintly-sculptured columns, 
— this is what one sees without being conscious 
of anything but the soft gleam of gold and rich 
iridescence of colors and wondrous grace of form 
and outline. We walked all over it, — went 
into the little footpaths of galleries, and looked 
down upon the floor, covered with mosaics, which 
has been so upheaved as to look billowy in sur- 
face; stood in dark corners, and sat in long 
slants of sunshine, yet could never get past the 
bewilderment of it all, and the willingness just 
to sit still and feel it, as one would an exquisite 

VOL. II. — 12 



178 THE BRIDE OF THE SEA. 

and perfect harmony. It is a veritable "call to 
prayer " and sweet and solemn meditation. Its 
walls, covered with scriptural scenes in mosaic, 
are a "People's Bible." Artists are busy at dif- 
ferent points with sketches; a few worshippers 
bow before the side altars, and here and there a 
solitary form is bent in prayer; and a crowd of 
sight-gazers surge to and fro. But, serene and 
calm, the great structure of gold and color stands 
unchanged in its influence and expression. 

All this gives little idea of the bewildering 
and dazzling effect of all the inspirations ex- 
pressed within and without in deftly-wrought 
stone, beautifully tinted mosaic, and gleaming, 
flashing gold. Fanciful, exuberant, and extrava- 
gant it may be; but it stands to-day unique and 
alone, — an allegory in enduring stone. No 
wonder Buskin raved! Every one who possesses 
even a portion of Buskin's spirit will feel the 
same vibration and thrill. Some one, plain, 
hard-headed, and matter-of-fact, will come along 
and say that as a structure it is too low, too 
confused, and it is all a job-lot of spoiled and 
tarnished fancies. But the doves will flutter 
around and settle here and there year after year ; 
the fairy-like domes, the graceful pinnacles, the 
myriad leaf and flower forms in stone, the beau- 
tiful golden mosaics, and the odd bronze horses 
of the exterior, will gleam and glow in the noon- 



VENICE. 179 

day sun for ages, as the personification of perfect 
beauty and finished grace; and the rude old 
mosaics and the bewitching effects of colors, 
arches, and golden domes of the interior, will 
stand long as the expression of grateful tribute 
and reverent worship. 

Close by is the Doge's palace, imposing and 
massive, yet graceful and ornate, with many a 
traceried window and floral form tossed against 
its walls. Its interior, with magnificent court, 
a Giant's staircase of marble, a beautiful loggia, 
and room after room of enormous size, with 
superb ceilings and walls glowing with the best 
works of Titian, Paul Veronese, Palma Vecchio, 
and Tintoretto, held in place by most elaborately- 
carved and gilded mouldings, makes the days 
disappear like hours. At the Academy Belle 
Arti, ten minutes away, hangs the gorgeous and 
beautiful Assumption, by Titian, and his ex- 
quisite Presentation in the Temple, which none 
see but to love. 

A little steamer in a half hour carries one 
across the lagoons to the Lido, a narrow strip of 
land between them and the Adriatic, where is a 
beautiful beach, lapped by the great, green 
waves. Near by is the Island and Convent of 
San Lazzaro, ideal in its loveliness and repose. 
While there one morning, every palace and dome 
and tower of Venice was ablaze with sunlight, 



180 THE BRIDE OF THE SEA. 

and the reflection in the waters was weird and 
picturesque ; while toward the Lido, like a 
mirage, everything seemed lifted above the 
waters, floating like an iridescent bubble in the 
air. But what is the use ? Talk about it and 
tell about it, yet, like a mirage, it will elude 
your grasp. One who has seen the old city in 
moonlight, sunlight, and in cold, deadening 
storm, in a wild delirium of delight and in cold, 
matter-of-fact consciousness of tired body and 
weary brain, can only say, "It is of no use;" 
or declare, with the modern belle at the piano, 
"I cannot sing the old songs." 



THE LILY OF THE AKNO. 

Any one with the least poetry, sentiment, or 
artistic sense will not fail to "fall in love " with 
Florence; but matter-of-fact, straight-up-and- 
down people will see only a mediaeval city, with 
tortuous and narrow streets with here and there 
a massive, weather-stained palace, a " lot of old 
churches, " a beautiful campanile, miles of paint- 
ings in the Uffizi and Pitti, and a rapid, shallow 
river, between granite walls, spanned by fine 
bridges, — and will not think it "half as nice as 
Paris! " And all the while, whether "men will 
hear or forbear," like a picture or a dream, 
"Firenze la bella," with its expanse of flat roofs 
and yellow walls, — the monotony of which is 
broken only by an occasional square campanile 
or shapely dome, — lies like a great flock of 
white sea-gulls upon a level valley, bordering 
both sides of the shallow, muddy, and rapid 
Arno, which, with its several bridges and high- 
walled banks, curves and sways gracefully through 
it. With its environment of sunlit hills, starred 
with many a pretty, embowered villa, or crowned 



182 THE LILY OF THE ARNO. 

by gray monastery walls, or tall campanile, and 
with the half-encircling Apennines, ranging in 
color from deep bine to amethyst, and on to rose, 
lying against the soft, opalescent, distant, snow- 
covered mountains, it is indeed a vision of beauty 
and soft, delicious color ! 

Happily, the first six days of our sojourn were 
cloudless, and we entered and saw it from various 
standpoints again and again, just basking and 
rollicking in glorious floods of sunshine. Day 
after day we revelled in the sight of the clear-cut 
outline of roofs, — of Giotto's peerless Campa- 
nile, and of the Duomo facade and dome, against 
the warm, deep-blue, Italian sky. These Italian 
cities, with their narrow, crooked streets, need 
the sun. And here in Florence, with churches 
and palaces so rich in frescos and masterpieces 
of pictorial art, a flood of sunshine making glad 
the dark places, making visible the wondrous but 
half-obliterated mural decorations, is a boon 
which makes the traveller's heart light within 
him. Its palaces, often half fortress and half 
palace, are of such magnificent extent and pro- 
portions, and, almost uniformly, so fine archi- 
tecturally, that it seems a pity that instead of 
making gloomy a narrow street, or being crowded 
by meaner structures, they do not stand upon 
some wide boulevard, or open plaza. But that 
would not be Italy; and it is Italy we "went out 



FLORENCE. 183 

for to see." Its history is rich and full of won- 
drous development in Art, in marvellous growth 
in Literature, and of wealth lavishly but intelli- 
gently used. Any one simply walking through 
its streets, or strolling through its galleries, or 
idling in its libraries, would be impressed with 
this. Alas ! to-day it is only a provincial town. 
The more is the pity, that for a few short years 
it was the capital of the new Kingdom of Italy; 
for, regarding it as a permanency, it has been 
made bankrupt by huge schemes of improvement 
and adornment that are needless now, and to 
make way for which a peculiar and most pictur- 
esque feature (the old walls) has been destroyed. 
Well do we remember how quaint and unique 
they looked years ago, with fleur-de-lis and 
spring flowers waving and nodding from every 
nook and cranny where they had gained rootage. 
Now, in their place, an unfinished boulevard 
encircles the town. It is very beautiful, even if 
it is an innovation, with its shade-trees, fre- 
quent garden-like spaces, and fine villas, and 
furnishes a most charming drive, with at times 
bewitching pictures of the old town and sur- 
rounding olive-wooded hills. Upon the hillside 
it leads to the new Piazza, or open square, a mag- 
nificent, elevated terrace, dedicated to Michael 
Angelo ; broad and level, with handsome balus- 
trades, and in the centre, upon marble pedestal, 



184 THE LILY OF THE ARNCX 

a replica of Angelo's superb David, with bronze 
copies at either corner of his Day and Night, 
and the Evening and Dawn of the Medician 
tomb; and with a commanding view, which 
sweeps the length and breadth of the Arno val- 
ley, the city with huge dome and campanile 
of cathedral, and the lovely heights of Fiesole, 
and the entire range of the Apennines, it is so 
noble and grand that one quite forgives the 
destruction of the picturesque and historic walls, 
which made it possible. It is the only structure 
of modern Florence that accords with the grand 
old palaces of its earlier period. Many an hour 
we whiled away upon it, gazing at the lovely 
sunlit pictures presented upon every side. 

The little river below like molten metal curved 
gracefully out of sight. The mighty cathedral 
dome, like a great bubble, seemed afloat in an 
atmosphere of gold. The lovely campanile, with 
its soft harmony of coloring, rose aloft in the 
yellow haze. Away off upon the mountains and 
the hills appeared white villas and great, gray, 
fortress-like abodes. The Apennines were 
amethystine in tint and color; while against the 
distant horizon lay, dreamily and opalescent, a 
line of soft, wavy, snow-crested mountains. 
Often everything was suffused and the very 
atmosphere was tremulous with glorious light 
and color. 



FLORENCE. 185 

Ordinarily the Arno is an insignificant stream; 
but when swollen by storms it becomes quite 
formidable, and demonstrates the necessity for 
the massive granite quays which line its whole 
course through the city. But, faced by ancient 
palaces, and spanned by the quaint, mediaeval 
Ponte Vecchio and five other bridges, it is, with 
its yellow, rippling waters, one of the most 
picturesque features, making a beautiful vista 
through the throbbing heart of the city, way off 
to the woods of the Cascine. It is shallow and 
rapid, but in the sunlight gleams and glistens 
like polished gold, and reflects and beautifies, as 
in a mirror, the old piles which overlook it. 
Upon lovely blue and sunlit days it is soft, 
dreamy, and Venetian-like, and the refracted 
light-effects are peculiarly beautiful. Our win- 
dows looked down upon one of the great bridges, 
and it was an endless delight to watch the mul- 
titude that thronged it from "morn till dewy 
eve." 

The life of to-day is far from barren in the 
elements of the picturesque. An elegant equi- 
page, with handsome horses and livery, is jostled 
by a droll, ramshackle conveyance with two 
wheels, drawn by a patient donkey and presided 
over by a rollicking, laughing peasant-boy. 
Cabs, great loads of merchandise, and the queer- 
est-looking country wagons, and all sorts of 



186 THE LILY OF THE ARNO. 

drays, often three or four times the length of the 
poor beast which drags them, crowd the way, 
while the working-horses have bells and tassels 
and brass ornaments enough for a holiday parade. 
The crowd of pedestrians is none the less motley, 
or full of extremes of richness and poverty. The 
women of the lower classes with rigolette or 
veil, if anything, upon their heads; the men with 
long, full cloaks and slouch hats; monks and 
sisters in monastic habits ; ladies and gentlemen ; 
common soldiers, and officers in brilliant uni- 
forms; once in a while a vendor of embroideries 
in gay costume; and sometimes black-robed 
figures carrying a bier, —make a most pictur- 
esque and characteristic picture. But the great 
bridge in the early morning, with its hurry- 
scurry life and crowd; with the long rays of sun- 
light slanting through the rifted eastern clouds, 
and striking full upon the brilliant reds and blues 
and yellows of the women's costumes, the dull 
browns and russets and blues of the workingmen, 
the red and yellow and white of vehicle-wheels; 
the long processions of hay-loads, soft and deli- 
cate in tint, and glowing with mellow light; and 
the flash of military accoutrements, — can never 
quite fade from one's sight. In our country the 
crowd would be sombre and commonplace; but 
here pictures are suggested continually, and one's 
fingers tingle to perpetuate them. No wonder 



FLORENCE. 187 

the Old Masters portrayed the Mother of our Lord 
as they did. She was the woman, the Mother of 
the country, seen on every side with rigolette 
upon the head, and gay shawl across her gener- 
ous bosom, carrying her babe upon her arm even 
to-day in the streets of Florence. But if the 
babies had been trundled in perambulators, as 
with us, would grouping of Divine Motherhood 
ever have found perpetuation upon canvas as in 
the Madonnas we all love so well? 

Turning from the sunny quays and the golden 
Arno, one passes immediately into the narrow, 
crooked streets, lined with tall, quaint facades, 
and grim, dark palace-walls, which speak of "a 
day that is dead," of an age that is past. 
Strolling aimlessly along, one comes to an open 
plaza where, in a flood of golden sunshine, leaps 
into the air, clothed in soft colors and exquisite 
lines, the fairest creation of Italy, — the incom- 
parable Campanile of Giotto, and beside it the 
stately pile of the Duomo. Again one comes to 
an open square, or, as they call it, a piazza, 
where Savonarola's soul went up to God, upon 
which face the grand, castle-like Palazzo 
Vecchio, and the celebrated Loggia dei Lanzi, 
an open-vaulted hall, with masterpieces of 
sculpture, and from which one looks along the 
vista of the columns, arches, and porticos of the 
Uffizi to the border of the Arno. 



188 THE LILY OF THP] ARNO. 

It is in churches clingy and grimy without, 
and dim and shadowy within, that one sees the 
triumphs and creations of early Italian art. In 
the Uffizi there is a wilderness of artistic treas- 
ures, and in the Pitti a parterre of the choicest 
blossoms of the Old Masters. 

But there is something in the air that is not 
mediaeval ! The light is piercing the dark places 
of fair Italy. Already a wide street and open 
plaza have been cut through the most dense and 
unhealthful portion of Florence, and, among the 
memories of the Medici, looms high in air an 
equestrian statue of the unwieldy, burly form of 
Victor Emmanuel! 

If weary with all the glory of the past and 
the delights of a wondrous age of art (and plea- 
sure tires as well as labor), one can revel in the 
magnificent avenues, the ilex and cypress-shaded 
walks of the Boboli Gardens, or can ascend the 
heights of Fiesole or the hill of the monastery of 
"Val d'Ema," and revel in a peaceful view 
which seems too fair and sweet for earth. 
Surely, as an old-time poet has sung, — 

" Of all the fairest cities of the earth, 
None is so fair as Florence." 

Or as a popular novelist expresses it : — 

" She was builded in a night by Hercules, as a plea- 
sure-toy for Venus and Flora, made with the stones 
from the golden Arno water, and set up in a meadow 



FLORENCE. 189 

of lilies. Hercules gave his strength as a birthright ; 
and Flora, being content, touched the soil and said, 
1 All the year long flowers shall blossom here, and their 
smile shall not cease in any season ; ' and Venus, being 
well pleased likewise, called her son to her and said, 
' When you dart your arrows hither, wreathe them with 
roses, and wing them from the eagle and the dove. ' " 



THE SANCTUAEIES OF FLORENCE. 

In the majority of Italian towns, the interest, 
artistical, ecclesiastical, and historical, centres 
in the old churches and palaces. In every view 
of Florence the grand, central point is the huge, 
balloon-like dome and the tall, majestic campa- 
nile of the Duomo. Within an hour after our 
arrival in the old city, we stood in the open 
piazza in which stands the wonderful group of 
the Duomo, or Cathedral, the Campanile, and the 
Baptistery, whose marvellous doors of bronze 
were pronounced by Michael Angelo fit for the 
entrance-gates to paradise. Of the Campanile it 
may truthfully be said, "It is one of the few 
'perfect structures in the world." Simple, digni- 
fied, and peerless, detached from the Duomo and 
square in form, it stands with its wealth of 
color, its simple and natural lines, its richly- 
traced window-arches, like a glorious poetical 
growth and development, and rises from the 
broad piazza with all the grace, richness, and 
sumptuousness of a superb tropical flower. 
Encrusted with geometric mosaic of red, black- 



FLORENCE. 191 

ish -green, and white marbles ; adorned with 
medallions, statues, bass-reliefs, and sculptur- 
ings ; with open window-frames, filled with 
exquisite traceries and borderings, so skilfully 
arranged that the whole mass seems to taper 
slightly as it ascends, — this matchless structure 
rises in the still, luminous air to a height of two 
hundred and ninety-two feet, an enduring monu- 
ment to the memory of the shepherd-boy of the 
Tuscan hills, who, as Euskin says, "filled the 
heart of Italy with sacred thoughts," and, called 
of God for peculiar work, bore upon his crown 
the legend of David, "I took thee from the 
sheep-cote and from following the sheep." Who, 
gazing in rapt wonder at it, can doubt the 
Divine gift, when he thinks of this boy, born 
among the lily fields, far away from Florence, 
being called, as Euskin also says, "to raise that 
headstone of Beauty above her towers of watch 
and war " ? Fluttering with ceaseless motion 
through the open windows, or resting in depths 
of bass-reliefs or niche, are countless doves, or 
pigeons, which, being regularly fed upon the 
plaza below, never leave it, but give a peculiar 
life and spirit to this dream of sculptured color. 

Close to it, but separated by a few feet, stands 
the beautiful and stately Duomo, encrusted alike 
with mosaic of black and white marbles. "A 
little oil cloth-y," some say, who do not admire. 



192 THE SANCTUARIES OF FLORENCE. 

The consciousness that all this beautiful marble 
is only a crust, and is in no sense essential to, or 
a part of, the stability and strength of the struct- 
ure, and the feeling that it may slide or scale off 
with any violent atmospheric disturbance, is not 
pleasant. But the building is fine! It is not 
solemn and impressive, like an English cathe- 
dral, with its quieting and meditative close, and 
its ponderous air of "God only is great," and its 
commanding "Come, let us worship and bow 
down before the Lord our Maker;" but cheer- 
ing, inspiriting, and elevating, with its glad, 
joyous, " Let us go up to the house of the Lord 
together," "Let us give thanks" and "Let us 
rejoice in the Lord alway." Above the huge pile 
the great, octagonal dome — the mother of all 
the domes of Europe — broods over the project- 
ing chapels, much as a hen doth over the chickens 
beneath her wings. Of late years, an elaborate 
and harmonious front facade has been con- 
structed, — a perpetual song of joy and gladness, 
without one discordant note. As yet, unstained 
by time, it stands like an exquisite embroidery, 
rich with fret-work of delicate design, covered 
with niches and statues, and adorned with 
minute decorations of golden mosaic. Three 
glorious doorways, each with a framework of 
patiently and delicately wrought white marble, 
and exquisite mosaic pictures in the spandrels, 



FLORENCE. 193 

adorn it. And enshrined high upon its glorious 
face, in a golden niche, is the effigy of her who 
was indeed " blessed among women/' holding the 
Divine child. 

We first saw it in the full glare of sunlight, 
and every carving, every detail, and every bit of 
tiny gold encircling little columns stood out in 
glorious distinctness and beauty. But a while 
before sunset, with the slanting rays of softer, 
golden light resting upon it, it is so airy, so 
delicate, and full of life, that it is Oriental in 
splendor. The mosaics gleam with soft, rich 
effect; the sunken bits of gold flash like gems; 
the statues and sculpturings are soft with beams 
of yellow, while through the quatre-foils that 
border the sky-line appears the deep-blue of the 
beyond, as soft and vivid as if some precious bits 
of lapis-lazuli filled each one. 

But disappointment awaits him who feels that 
this sumptuous pile must enshrine a glorious 
interior, for it is bare, cold, and sombre, and is 
washed a yellowish-brown. Its dimensions are 
grand; the high vault of the dome is impressive; 
the marble screen that encloses the choir is fine ; 
but it is such a contrast to the warm, glowing 
exterior, that instinctively one wants to get out 
into the sunlight again. It has not even the 
poetic "dim, religious light," although there are 
narrow windows of old stained glass, that melt 

VOL. II. — 13 



194 THE SANCTUARIES OF FLORENCE. 

and glow with richest tint and deepest hue. In 
this soft, glowing, Italian clime, with the mean 
but picturesque surroundings, and with this 
people so strangely full of activity and life, and of 
indolence and ease, this exquisite campanile and 
facade seem in perfect harmony. But place it 
in one of our red-brick or brown-stone lined 
streets or squares, and it would be discordant, 
and its pleasant rhythm and easy, graceful, 
poetic flow be lost. 

St. Maria Novella is considered by connoisseurs 
the "finest in Florence," and Michael Angelo 
called it "the Bride." Could he see it to-day, 
with its mosaic facade begrimed, and its inte- 
rior dingy and filthy, his epithet would hardly 
be so flattering. There is much an amateur or 
tourist must wade through, although of little 
interest to himself, which he knows the art or 
architectural student finds, like the legendary 
egg, full of meat. For instance, in this church 
is a famous work by Cimabue, which was carried 
originally to the church in procession, followed 
by an enthusiastic populace, of which Hawthorne 
says, he " thinks it would be no calamity if the 
populace would carry it into the square and as 
reverently burn it ! " Connected with this 
church is a chapter house, with frescos, to 
which Ruskin devotes two entire "Mornings in 
Florence." A half hour within it always chilled 
us through, — there is little enjoyment in obscure 



FLORENCE. 195 

art when one must stand upon one foot and then 
the other to keep warm. 

Attached to the Church of San Lorenzo are 
the Medician Chapel and sacristy. The first is 
octagonal in form, and lighted from a dome. 
The interior is completely encrusted with richly 
polished marble of a chocolate hue. Columns, 
panels, cornices, and massive and stately tombs, 
all harmonizing in color and design with a 
wainscoting inlaid with superb Florentine mosaic 
coats-of-arms of various cities, — make an effect 
which for magnificence and richness surpasses 
anything in Florence. Only four million of 
dollars were expended upon it! Near it is the 
new sacristy built by Michael Angelo, as a 
mausoleum for the Medici tribe, a quadrangular 
room with a dome, but severely cold, bare, 
and plain in its finish. In it stand two tombs 
with statues of Lorenzo and Julius di Medici, 
which are worth more in an artistic sense than 
all the gorgeousness of the chapel. The statue 
of Lorenzo is a sublime creation, "with everlast- 
ing shadow on his face." It is so still, so lost 
in thought and profound meditation, that one 
instinctively moves silently before it. Upon 
these tombs are the wonderful unfinished reclin- 
ing statues of Day and Night, and Evening and 
Dawn, often seen in illustrations. 

Santa Croce is the Westminster Abbey, the 
Walhalla, of Florence. Its interior is impos- 



196 THE SANCTUARIES OF FLORENCE. 

ing and impressive, more because of its great size 
and its massive columns than anything else, for 
it is washed in shades of brown, and has a cheap- 
looking, barn-like timbered roof. Around the side 
walls are monuments commemorating names that 
could not die. Near the grave of Michael Angelo 
rises a massive tomb with statues. Farther on is 
a huge cenotaph to Dante, who sleeps at Eavenna. 
Alfieri, Galileo, and Machiavelli are also remem- 
bered. Bronze tablets record the grateful memory 
of the Italians of the services of Victor Emmanuel 
and Giuseppe Garibaldi. In numerous small 
chapels are glowing old windows, and walls 
covered with the wonderful frescos of Giotto. 

Adjoining the Church of San Marco is the 
suppressed monastery of the same name, a sanctu- 
ary in truth of devotion and art, which, with 
its frescos and paintings by gentle Fra Angelico, 
the works of Fra Bartolomeo and Ghirlandajo, 
and its associations with godly Savonarola, is 
one of the most fascinating and interesting places 
in Florence. Suppressed by the present govern- 
ment, it has been opened as a museum. Upon 
the walls of tiny cells are the dainty frescos of 
Fra Angelico. One can easily believe he knelt 
always in prayer before commencing work. He 
seems the only one of the Old Masters who really 
succeeded in so etherealizing and spiritualizing 
the human face that it became angelic and not of 
this world. 



FLORENCE. 197 

A strange feeling of awe and reality creeps over 
one as he stands in the little suite of two rooms, 
or cells, in which Sa\onarola prayed and labored, 
and from his vigils there passed into the adjoining 
church and preached with such mighty power. 
His chair, rosary, volume of sermons, hair- 
shirt, and crucifix all lie there. He labored to 
make the people and the government pure in 
heart, and his monastery a sanctuary of art 
entirely consecrated to the glory of the Christian 
religion. What a wonderful story his life is! 
Alas! elsewhere we trace the fearful ending! In 
the Palazzo Vecchio we stood in the little upper 
room in w T hich he partook for the last time of 
the Sacrament, and from whence he passed into 
the square below r , and with two others was pub- 
licly degraded, unclothed, hung, and then burned, 
upon the very spot where the people under the 
influence of his preaching had burned their 
cards, ball-dresses, trinkets, questionable statues, 
and pictures. Calm, composed, and lost in con- 
templation of his Saviour, his last sublime words 
being, "The Lord has suffered as much for me," 
he met his doom, and made even the public 
square forever a sanctuary. 

Many another sacred place makes the old city 
full and overflowing with tender and precious 
memories, and art treasures, to which you may 
come and go at your own sweet will. 



198 THE SANCTUARIES OF FLORENCE. 

The levelling of the city walls and the grading 
of the new Viale, or boulevard, has destroyed 
the pensive charm and rural grace of the old 
Protestant cemetery, — a sanctuary for many an 
American. Now it stands on a knoll, surrounded 
by and elevated above the city streets. A sar- 
cophagus of white marble, inlaid with mosaics 
(that already are chipping off), and supported by 
six dwarf columns, marks the sleeping-place of 
Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Her husband lies 
beneath the cold, gray pavement of far-away 
Westminster Abbey, where no perfume of south- 
ern flower or warmth of Italian sunshine ever 
penetrates. Theodore Parker — the brave and 
fearless — was laid here at the age of fifty. 
Near by, a tasteless white slab marks the grave 
of Walter Savage Landor; and a plain slab tells 
of the "farewell tribute of wife and sister" to 
Arthur Hugh Clough. Many Americans, Eng- 
lish, and Dutch lie entombed upon the sunny 
knoll. But the roses were in bloom, the shrub- 
bery was rich and green, the breeze blew softly 
through the tall cypresses, and the sunlight fell 
upon many a triumphant strain of Scripture, 
which the English so delight to inscribe above 
their dead, and this humble place seemed more 
sacred than the historic sanctuaries scattered 
throughout this ancient city. 



SOME SIGHTS IN EOME 
NOT MENTIONED IN BAEDAEKER. 

Any one revisiting the Eternal City after a lapse 
of years, will be impressed with the fact that the 
world does move, and that the trend is — per- 
haps slowly, but surely — upward and onward. 
The old Rome, so dear to the heart of the " globe- 
trotter" and to the eye of the artist, with its 
delicious and perfect harmony of age and anti- 
quity, has disappeared. The grand old palaces, 
the sublime ruins of the mighty monuments, 
grimy and dingy with the dust and accretions of 
centuries, still stand a silent testimony of "a 
tale that is told ; " but they no longer dominate 
or give tone to the historic city beside the yellow 
Tiber. The lethargic sleep is broken. There 
"is something in the air;" all is discord! The 
new jostles against the old, and threatens to 
overwhelm it. New streets, broad and hand- 
some, let light and health into the stifled but 
picturesque quarters. Marble embankments and 
a stately drive ere long will line the Tiber, to 
make room for which many a picturesque but 
fever-breeding pile has been demolished. And 



200 SOME SIGHTS IN ROME. 

why this change, this awakening from contented 
sleep, this destruction of one of the landmarks 
of the romantic and picturesque ? Because 
Eome is no longer the seat of the "temporal 
power," but the capital of free and united Italy. 
A king, broad and generous in sentiment, sits in 
the old papal palace of the Quirinal, and seeks 
patiently, tolerantly, and justly to develop both 
land and people. 

Meanwhile, where the great, irregular, homely 
mass of the Vatican with its thousands of rooms 
surges, like a huge tidal wave, against the 
superb pile of St. Peter's, the aged Pontiff lives 
in ill-chosen and mistaken seclusion. Since it 
has become the capital, Eome has doubled its 
population, and has seen its habitations, large 
and costly, rise by the thousand. There is an 
air of lusty, busy, healthful life, which has 
hardly yet settled into a steady and personal 
expression. 

But the changes "all along the line" are not 
confined to things temporal. The Rome, thirty 
years ago, which allowed only Americans to 
worship under their flag at the embassy, and the 
English outside of the walls, now shows two 
English, one Scottish, and one American churches, 
for the foreign residents; a Waldensian, a Chris- 
tian Apostolic, a Baptist, an Evangelical Free, 
an Italian Methodist, and a Mission Methodist 



ROME. 201 

(cared for by the English Wesleyans), for the 
evangelization of the people. Facing the road- 
way across the well-known bridge of St. Angelo, 
and in plain sight of St. Peter's, is a French 
apartment-house (in appearance), purchased and 
held by Scotch and American trustees, for the 
work so successfully inaugurated and carried on 
by the late Father Gavazzi, and now known as 
the Evangelical Church of Italy. Under one roof 
are primary and elementary schools for children, 
a theological school, library, and dormitories 
for students, and a church. A little, irregular 
upper-room contains the modest library, the por- 
trait, bust, and other mementos of this great 
pioneer; while over a door, in a roll, hang his 
robes as a priest, and his red shirt and uniform 
as a Garibaldian soldier. The Evangelical (or 
as it used to be called the Free) Church of Italy 
appeals to our country yearly through Dr. How- 
ard Crosby and the Rev. Mr. Angelini, now in 
America. It is doing a glorious work through- 
out Italy; and no one with the advancement of 
the Master's kingdom at heart could, if cogni- 
zant of its beneficent achievements, withhold his 
gift. God's work will be carried on; but the 
question is, can Christians afford to lose the 
privilege of co-working with Him? 

Another wonderful work is that commenced 
and carried on among the soldiers by Luigi 



202 SOME SIGHTS IN ROME. 

Capellini, called the Evangelical Military Church, 
but now in fellowship with and protected by the 
English Methodists. Capellini was a soldier. 
One day at Perugia, as he walked the street, he 
saw some bits of paper carried along by the 
wind. He picked them up, read them with 
interest, meditated upon their words, and, as he 
expresses it, "My soul seemed all at once to 
throw off its fetters and become filled with an 
unusual joy." God's word had not returned unto 
Him void. The few leaves of a Testament drift- 
ing along the streets of an obscure Italian town 
had wrought a miracle not likely to be emblaz- 
oned by art, but already reflected in the changed 
lives of hundreds of soldiers. He went to work 
at once, and when his military service was ended, 
gave himself up entirely to efforts for the evange- 
lization of the soldiers. His own means failing, 
Mr. Waite, of the American Union Church here, 
collected sufficient to carry it on for a year. Then, 
through Rev. Gerry Vernon, it was supported by 
the Methodist Church in America, until it came 
under the patronage or care of the English 
Methodist Church here. Persecution opened its 
battery. Some bigoted officers called a council 
to consider measures for preventing evangelical 
meetings, etc., among the men; but Umberto 
(then Prince) said, "No! See that no political 
plotting goes on under the garb of religion ; but 



ROME. 203 

do not hinder the men from fulfilling the duties 
of their religion." And Umberto — now king, 
"the noblest Roman of them all," — has since, 
because of the improved "morale" of his army, 
made this servant of Christ "cavalier," the 
equivalent of knight. 

In Rome the services are held in a hired room. 
At three other points in the country " stations " 
are also in full operation. As the regiments are 
moved constantly, anything like a church organi- 
zation is quite impracticable; but they are 
enrolled, and three times a year the sacrament 
of the Lord's supper is celebrated. It was a 
privilege at Christmas time, to be present at 
the English Methodist Church, where, for con- 
venience, this simple and touching service was 
held. Entering the brilliantly-lighted little 
church by a side door, we looked upon an audi- 
ence of perhaps two hundred young men, stal- 
wart in form and manly in bearing, the dark 
blue of their uniforms relieved here and there by 
a dash of scarlet and of gold. It was thrilling 
to hear them already singing (as this people do 
everything), with their whole heart, an Italian 
version of "Hold the Fort." It was stirring and 
martial, and in perfect keeping. Unfamiliarity 
with the language shut us, in one sense, out; but 
something in our hearts answered to the fervent, 
earnest tone of the prayer, and the ringing, stir- 



204 SOME SIGHTS IN ROME. 

ring notes of the address, and the manly response, 
"Credo," to each article of belief. Upon a 
small table before the pulpit was a tankard, two 
chalices, and a plate, presented on Christmas 
Day, 1873, — " From soldiers of England to the 
Evangelical soldiers of Italy." Eev. Mr. Pig- 
gott, of the Methodist Church, read the service 
and made an address, and, with Mr. Capellini, 
passed the elements. The manly heads were 
bowed in meditation, and a tender stillness 
brooded like the Spirit over them. It was 
impossible to look with undimmed vision upon 
these soldiers of the Cross, who, as they will by 
duty be called here and there throughout the 
Kingdom, will carry and spread broadcast the 
story of redeeming love ; or to repress an earnest 
prayer that they may be enabled "to endure 
hardness as good soldiers of Jesus Christ." 
With a glad, triumphant rendering of our fami- 
liar tune and hymn, "I am Coming, Lord, to 
Thee," the service closed. It seemed as if the 
" Gloria in excelsis Deo " was ringing in the air, 
although unspoken. As each new communicant 
passed out a Bible was presented to him. It 
was a company of Roman soldiers, — not, as of 
old, come to bear Him away to judgment-hall, 
and consequent humiliation and death ; but to 
remember His dying command, and then go out 
to bear Him in their hearts and before their 



ROME. 205 

comrades, to testify of His saving grace, and so 
verify His own words, " And I, if I be lifted up, 
will draw all men unto me." God grant that 
this may be the little leaven that will leaven the 
whole lump; until, from humble private to 
kingly commander, shall come the refrain, "By 
Thy grace, I will ! " 



EIBS OF AN OLD HULK. 

After all, European travel, like everything else, 
yields in enjoyment and profit in proportion to 
the appreciation and preparation the individual 
brings to bear upon it. A party of three, some 
years ago, came suddenly and unexpectedly in 
full view of the towers and transept of West- 
minster Abbey. Two stood breathless and en- 
tranced before the realization of the dreams of 
a lifetime, thrilled with the historic and antique 
expression of the smoke -begrimed and venerable 
old pile. The stillness was broken by the third, 
exclaiming as he looked, not at the Abbey, but at 
the passing crowd, "What a hoss!" He had 
found his level, and it was only so many hands 
high. The story of the Abbey told by these par- 
ties must have differed widely. Yet the Abbey 
was the same, — grand, sublime, and impressive. 
It was a question of capacity only. ]STo use in 
expecting one with capacity for a pint only -to 
accommodate a quart ! 

An artist sojourning in Eome remarked, 
"The Forum does not inspire or move m#." 



ROME. 207 

This was well enough, for it concerned only him- 
self; but when he added, " And I do not believe 
it inspires or moves any one," he put his miser- 
able little pint-measure as the standard against 
the quart of many others, and the grand old 
place itself. For the Forum, with its pictur- 
esqueness, its romance, its historic association, 
and its air of desolation and melancholy, does 
move and inspire. With its long line of shat- 
tered columns and statues, rich and varied in 
color and design, lying in the golden sunlight, 
it meets every requirement of the picturesque; 
with its remains of the temple of Vesta, and the 
quaint story of the vestal virgins, etc., it is not 
lacking in the nature of the romantic; with the 
distinct outline of public buildings identified 
with the golden age of the old city, it is brimful 
with the historic; while in the stately columns 
and pediments of classic temples, and the great 
heavy masses of sombre arches, stained, dis- 
colored, and shattered by time, it is permeated 
with the spirit of poetry, sentiment, and song. 

It is only a wide, ditch-like excavation, in the 
heart of the historic city, some four hundred and 
fifty by fourteen or fifteen hundred feet. One 
stands in the modern street and looks down some 
twenty-five feet into the yawning space, and sees 
the great blocks of the ancient city pavements, 
the foundation of temples and bases of the 



208 RIBS OF AN OLD HULK. 

columns of the old Basilica, all so well defined, 
so surrounded by broken fragments of frieze, 
cornice, capital, and column, that it is easy to 
picture its original chaste and classic grandeur. 
Still standing, beautiful and pathetic, are columns 
supporting pediments, and the one great trium- 
phal arch of Septimus Severus ; near by the 
single " column with a buried base," as called 
by Byron; farther on three stately, time -tinted 
columns, supporting the right angle of a cornice 
the remnant of the temple of Vespasian; eight 
unfluted columns in a row, called the temple of 
Saturn; and three beautiful columns known as 
the temple of Castor. The foundations and mar- 
ble floors of many buildings and temples well- 
nigh cover the space. There the marbles lie, 
like the scattered ribs of an old stranded hulk, 
tossed to and fro by tempests and storms along 
the shore. There the historian and the arch- 
aeologist may revel in the story of the past; and 
the every-day tourist may loiter, and picture the 
day when Rome was at her zenith. Overlooking 
it are the mighty ruins of the old palaces upon 
the Palatine hill. Across one end is the great, 
homely pile of the capitol, from which an ex- 
quisite view is obtained, framed in by the open- 
work of an arched doorway. Along the Via 
Sacra one may walk a little way from it and 
pass through and under the grand old triumphal 



ROME. 209 

arch of Titus, with its interior bass-reliefs of the 
procession bearing the seven-branched candle- 
stick from the Temple at Jerusalem. In plain 
sight, a little farther on, is the grandest and 
most sublime ruin of ancient Eome, — the well- 
known Coliseum. So familiar is every one 
with this old ruin, that it never surprises or dis- 
appoints, although its vast extent and colossal 
proportions well-nigh overwhelm. That such an 
immense structure should have been required "to 
make a Roman holiday " now seems incredible. 

One may indulge in historic reminiscence, 
poetical revery, or artistic imagery within its 
walls ; for there is an abundance of material for 
each and all. In former years, the interior was 
mantled with ivy, and branches of dwarf shrubs 
waved to and fro, and yellow-tasselled wild- 
flowers swayed in every breeze. But now the 
walls, in the interest of preservation, are bare 
and desolate. Doubtless they have gained in 
safety, but they have lost immensely in pictur- 
esqueness and poetic expression. 

Nothing in the grand old city will compare in 
beauty or grandeur with the curving outside 
walls of the Coliseum, with their rows of arches 
rising in tiers one above another. When the 
slanting rays of the afternoon sun fall upon 
them, their rich, tawny hue takes the tint of 
burnished and reddened gold, and is indescrib- 

VOL. II. — 14 



210 RIBS OF AN OLD HULK. 

ably beautiful. The full moon, however, reveals 
the most glorious effects; for then the old hulk 
and the ribs, scattered all along the melancholy 
way to the capitol, are invested with a new 
charm. With beneficent power the silvery light 
softens the rough wounds of time and decay, and 
the gleam of white marble, in columns, shattered 
capitals, and pediments, contrasts gently with 
ebon shadows. In the Coliseum is a stillness 
that may be felt, a rich, varied effect of light 
and shadow; and flitting forms of tourists 
alone break the profound repose. It is solemn 
and impressive, at the same time fascinating and 
delightful. 

So, as an old hulk may lie embedded upon the 
shore of the sea, while its ribs and timbers are 
tossed and scattered along the beach, a sad and 
melancholy picture of what once has been; and 
the ships of to-day, full of prosperity and life, 
go sailing gayly by these old picturesque and 
wonderful ruins, — so the hulk and ribs of proud 
and ancient Rome lie to-day with a new life 
surging about them, a new and glorious city 
crowding them, and a new nationality in United 
Italy, far surpassing in its work for humanity 
the golden era they recall. 



Amalfi. 



A FAGOT OF ITALIAN STICKS. 

L'OUVERTURE. 

Along the highways of southern Italy are often 
met groups of merry, laughing women, carrying 
upon their backs immense fagots, or bundles of 
sticks, brush, and stubble. With their rich, 
olive-brown complexions; hair tangled over fore- 
head and eyes; erect figures and firm step, and 
their motley costumes (many of "rags and tags," 
as if "the beggars have come to town"), — skirts 
caught up in a style much in vogue in the fash- 
ionable world a few years ago ; grotesque, laced 
bodices, with here and there a bit of bright color, 
— they certainly add a most picturesque feature 
to the scene. 

So, as one loiters in the shady nooks, or saun- 
ters along the varied shores of the Gulf of Sa- 
lerno, unconsciously is gathered a great fagot 
of memories, — a few sticks, a little brush, and 
perchance much stubble. 

A large majority of the tourists who visit 
Naples content themselves with " doing " Vesu- 
vius, Pompeii, Sorrento, and the Blue Grotto. 



212 A FAGOT OF ITALIAN STICKS. 

And yet, within thirty miles by rail, lies a drive 
which in beauty, picturesqueness, and grandeur 
surpasses even the famous Corniche road along 
the Eiviera di Ponente. The north coast of the 
Gulf of Salerno is a rapid and startling succes- 
sion of wild, rugged headlands, jutting boldly 
into the sea, alternating with numberless deep, 
romantic coves of great variety and beauty. The 
mountains do not "fool around " and take two or 
three miles inland to reach their lofty standard ; 
they do not even "stand upon the order of their 
going, but go at once," — often springing pre- 
cipitously and perpendicularly from the sea, and 
always rising very steeply and to great heights. 
Often they seem like great, detached, rollicking, 
tumultuous masses of waves or clouds, tossed 
wildly and picturesquely high in air, and then 
suddenly arrested, — crystallized into enduring 
adamant, to be a joy and a surprise to the scenery- 
lover forever. Sometimes the mighty rocks, as 
if riven by some terrific convulsion of Nature, 
stand sheer and grim ; again, they seem to pul- 
sate in graceful wave-forms; and, anon, rise in 
great, bowlder-like masses, which look in the 
distance like strong watch-towers on the ruins of 
extensive fortifications. And the little, deeply- 
recessed coves — with their romantic shadows and 
lines of tender grace, their pebbly shores, with 
the waves of the tideless sea lapping quietly 



THE GULF OF SALERNO. 213 

upon their sands — are full of bewitching grace 
and fascinating beauty. Every foot that man 
controls to-day along this rugged, craggy coast, 
numberless headlands and continuous indenta- 
tions, has been wrenched and filched, by fierce 
efforts, patient labor, and tremendous exertion. 
The shore is so bold and wall-like in some places 
that even by the water it has the appearance of 
continuous fortifications or ramparts; and fre- 
quently, upon some prominent point, or low- 
lying rock down by the sea, is seen a quaint, 
square, machicolated tower of stone, grim, 
defiant, and massive, — a succession of which 
was built about a mile or less apart, by Charles 
V., as a protection against the raids of pirates. 

Along this irregular, bold, and ragged coast- 
line of inhospitable mountains has been con- 
structed, at immense outlay of labor and ex- 
penditure, a superb "High road," some twelve 
miles in length. Eventually this road will 
round the peninsula, and form a continuous route 
to Sorrento ; but at the rate of present progress, 
two or three more decades will pass ere it is 
accomplished. Sometimes hewn like a terrace 
or shelf from the side of the precipitous cliffs; 
often carried across ravines or chasms, upon 
viaducts of masonry anywhere from one hundred 
to five hundred feet above the sea; hanging in 
places perilously over the waters below, and fre- 



214 A FAGOT OF ITALIAN STICKS. 

quently bending in some cove to the water's 
edge, — it affords, as one drives along over its 
smooth surface, a succession of breathlessly beau- 
tiful and charming landscape views and effects. 
Little villages and hamlets hug the bare, cold 
breasts of the mountains. Perseverance and 
patience have wrested, by means of countless 
terraces, space for extensive lemon-plantations 
and orange-groves. Because of these really fine 
and handsome terraces, rising often in thirty to 
fifty tiers, faced with smooth, compact walls, the 
mountain-sides often look as if guarded and 
covered with elaborate and expensive fortifica- 
tions, like "Ehrenbreitstein," upon the Rhine. 
The lemon is not grown here like the orange. A 
flat trellis or arbor covers the whole terrace, and 
upon this are trained the long, slender branches, 
so that beneath it is like a vine-covered roof, 
hung with countless pendants of luscious, yellow 
fruit. As one drives along the road, and looks 
upward, the under side of the trellises are fre- 
quently visible, — a beautiful sight, because of 
the deep-green glossy foliage, flecked as with 
myriads of golden balls. The orange-trees, on 
the contrary, stand out alone, like our apples, 
and are always a study of lovely color and strong 
contrast. 

As one passes along this exquisite drive, the 
mountains close in upon him in a bewildering 



THE GULF OF SALERNO. 215 

variety of fantastic forms and shapes; but 
always, as far as sight can penetrate, stretch the 
gleaming waters of the blue Mediterranean. 
Frequently, in apparently inaccessible points, 
stand out the gray walls of ruined monasteries, 
— regular mountain eyries. To the east and 
south-eastward lie slumbering in the sunlight the 
Calabrian hills or mountains, at times covered 
with snow, and rich in opaline tints and pris- 
matic effects. It is a combination of the Rhine, 
with its ruined and picturesque castles; the 
Eiviera, w r ith its deeply indented coast and 
bold headlands ; and Switzerland, with its 
snow-clad mountain-range, tinged with color, 
and flashing with light. But it is far more 
picturesque and fine than the Eiviera. It is the 
Riviera compressed, the Rhine "long drawn 
out," — and a vision of changing scene and dis- 
solving view, to linger perpetually in the 
memory, as a harmony of sweet sounds seems 
to tremble in the air long after it is spent. 

Midway between Victri and Amalfi, upon the 
Salerno coast, close by the low-lying and sandy 
shore of a wide, sunny bay, just where the beau- 
tiful, narrow valley of Tramonti opens toward 
the sea, lies the little town of Majori. A half 
to three quarters of a mile beyond, in a deep, 
narrow, shadowy indentation of the coast, is that 
of Minori. (Majori and Minori, the major and 



216 A FAGOT OF ITALIAN STICKS. 

the minor, or the elder and the younger, as 
you may please.) Inhospitable as the coast 
appears, it teems with a busy population. The 
terraces, with immense numbers of lemon and 
fruit plantations, demonstrate the industry of 
the people, while the little towns are busy with 
macaroni-factories and paper-mills. 

Majori is a pretty village, with one wide, 
smoothly -paved street, and, like the surf tossed 
up against the steep hillsides, most picturesque 
piles of irregular houses clustered around a 
cathedral with dome of gay tiles. Great squares 
of sacking lie in the wide street, upon which, in 
various stages of drying, are wheat and prepara- 
tions of macaroni pastes. Many plain "fisher 
folk " may be seen busy with their nets or ves- 
sels by the sea, while some very creditable boat- 
building is done along its shore. 

We had a droll experience in one of the shops 
close to a little "Cafe Americano!" Wishing 
some cotton batting to wrap around a lame limb, 
we asked, with some misgivings, if they had it. 
"Oui!" replied the little man; and, turning, 
lifted down a box, and opening it, displayed, 
with perfect complacency, a dozen balls of 
crochet cotton in various colors! Explaining 
that that which we wanted was white and long, 
he answered quickly "Oui! Oui! 77 and went 
out, coming back, in blissful confidence, with 



MAJORI. 217 

two long skeins of white darning-cotton. Then 
we thought to try the universal sign-language. 
Taking a piece of paper we laid it upon the 
counter, rolling it up; and then unrolling it, I 
wound it around my knee. The puzzled face 
lightened. Evidently the little merchant had 
" caught on " ! " Oui ! Oui ! Oui ! " he exclaimed, 
and disappeared beneath the counter. Rising a 
moment later with face radiant with success, he 
held in his outstretched hand — a pair of scarlet 
cotton garters with silver clasps ! We left, feel- 
ing it was as near the "Order of the Garter" as 
we would be likely to come, and recalling that 
in London they did not know what we meant by 
cotton batting, because they call it " cotton wool." 
Half way between Majori and Minori, upon 
the extreme end of a rocky headland, is perched, 
high above the waters, trembling like a raindrop 
in mid-air, the " Hotel Torre," — our headquar- 
ters for three sunny weeks, — with nothing 
between it and the sea, a hundred feet below, 
save the high road, which clings like a battle- 
ment to the front of the cliff, half way to the 
gulf beneath. In the olden, prosperous days it 
was the " Manor House w of the Monte Rosa 
family, who held slaves, and controlled an 
immense tract of land. By marriage it passed 
into the possession of the Mezzo Capo family, 
the later branches of which are not identified 



218 A FAGOT OF ITALIAN STICKS. 

with this part of Italy. So, although remodelled 
into a French chateau, and a most conspicuous 
feature in the landscape, it has fallen to the 
base uses of a hotel. But with its huge round 
corner towers; its marble porch and balconies, 
and its lovely terrace, lifted as it were in the 
air, like a hanging-garden; and its magnificent 
outlook along the rugged coast, and its superb 
sweep over the blue sea, — it is charming, 
although not very comfortable. Upon the little, 
sunlit terrace large evergreens cast cool shadows ; 
graceful palms wave to and fro; blossoming 
shrubs and pretty flower-borders, and long, trail- 
ing rose-vines and ivy give a summery aspect. 
One may sit there by the hour in the genial sun- 
shine, with a stillness most profound, and gaze 
dreamily over the gleaming waters, and realize 
to the full the restfulness of the old woman's 
ideal of heaven, — "a doing of nothing, forever 
and ever." 

The morning after our arrival we heard music; 
and, looking down from our balcony, saw a 
picturesque and characteristic sight. Before the 
marble entrance-staircase upon the terrace were 
a man and woman, most gayly and picturesquely 
costumed, reciting verses, singing, and dancing 
to the music of a large organ. They were only 
a group of strolling players; but as we looked 
down and saw these gay, laughing figures, danc- 



MAJOR! 219 

ing in the sunlight among the evergreens and 
the palms, we were reminded of " Pascarel " and 
"Brunotta," Ouida's wonderful creations, and 
the " Sunny Italy " of poetry and song. 

There is nothing here to do but to walk or 
drive. Our walks have been confined to the high 
road; for to climb these rugged and tempting 
hillsides is "too much like work." Yet we 
rarely go out without encountering something 
droll or characteristic. This portion of Italy 
may well be called the " land of the outstretched 
hand;" for go where we will, "old men and 
maidens, young men and children," as soon as 
they lay eyes upon us, stretch out their hands 
for "centissimi." Life here certainly looks 
hard. I never saw such burdens carried upon 
the backs, nor such trunks of heavy merchandise 
dragged by women before. Yet they all seem 
happy. It seems to me our " lower classes " 
have the semblance of a home; but here they 
only grovel, and one's heart grows heavy at 
the hard, soulless sort of life that just goes on 
and on like a treadmill, with no hope or chance 
of development or elevation. But with taxes at 
sixty-seven per cent, and a standing army of 
four hundred thousand able-bodied men, the 
prospect is not enlivening. Could these but 
beat their swords into ploughshares, and their 
spears into pruning-hooks, and "tickle the soil," 



220 A FAGOT OF ITALIAN STICKS. 

fair Italy might again become a land flowing 
with riches and gladness. 

Italian nomenclature, like our Indian, is full 
of poetry and music. Majori lies at the opening 
of a narrow, tortuous little valley, in which the 
views and lights are unusually fine at close of 
day, and so they call it "Val di Tranionti," — 
the "Valley of the Setting Sun." Being told it 
was a beautiful drive, we had one sunny after 
noon a landau, three horses, monogram, coach- 
man, and a boy perched up behind, " a la tiger, " 
and were gone three and a half hours. As we 
struck inland, for a while we feared we had made 
a mistake, for it was so like everything else. 
Somehow, tourists get demoralized and must 
have novelty all the time, or they feel a little 
defrauded. But it was not long before we blessed 
"the ass that carried us," although we wondered 
frequently if " the horse would throw us " before 
the day was done. The narrow valley ere long 
opened into a wide expanse; the great mountains 
rose in beautiful and distant outline; and in 
many a wild depression in the hillsides appeared 
villages, hamlets, old monasteries, and ancient 
churches. The thrift and industry of the people 
here are wonderful; for in places that seem only 
fit to touch a match to, will be seen terrace after 
terrace, made with smooth, handsome walls, with 
infinite patience and herculean effort, that are 



VAL DI TRAMONTI. 221 

bright with orange, olive, or grape culture, and 
great variety of garden truck. 

As we ascended by the road, which repeatedly 
doubles upon itself, we caught many a lovely 
vision, and looked down in the depths of the 
valley upon numerous paper-mills, with the 
water carried in little flumes, which at that dis- 
tance gleamed like silver threads, thrown by a 
shuttle across some fabric of variegated greens 
and browns. Far away, against the lofty hori- 
zon, in a break or pass in the mountain-summit, 
was visible always a huge, lonely stone tower, the 
point to which we were bound. We would 
seem comparatively near; we would round some 
spur or projection and lose all sight of it, and 
when it came in view again, lo ! it seemed miles 
and miles away. The great mountains toward 
whose summits we were nearing were powdered 
lightly with snow. It seemed lone and drear, 
and yet on every side were vineyards and well- 
tilled fields. The husbandman turning the soil; 
the vine-dressers trimming the trellised vines; 
the wood-cutters stopping in their work and 
staring at us; and the women, with great fagots 
upon their backs, trudging down the hill-road, 
constantly suggested the homely peasant-life 
Millet has so effectively dignified and beautifully 
canvased. Had " L ? Angelus " sounded from the 
distant tower, and these peasants paused in their 



222 A FAGOT OF ITALIAN STICKS. 

homely work, and bowed reverently in prayer, it 
would have seemed in perfect harmony with the 
quiet scene, — the blue, smoky air and the great, 
restful hill-country, which lay embosomed within 
a swelling amphitheatre of snow-capped, lofty 
mountains. 

The fine road is now only finished to the sum- 
mit of the pass. There stand the remains, gray 
and grim, of the fortress built to defend it in 
the days when "the chief end of man " seems to 
have been to kill somebody or destroy something! 
These consist of two old structures and a mighty, 
symmetrical round tower. We stepped out and 
walked a few hundred feet, expecting to look 
only along a narrow mountain-defile, with Vesu- 
vius, an insignificant mound, in the distance. 
Never were we more surprised ; for there broke 
upon us, in an instant, a vision which in our 
memory will rank second to no view, save that 
of the glorious Jungfrau, at Interlachen. The 
mountain seemed to drop suddenly away; the 
ranges parted like a huge gateway; and down, 
down, before us, lay a long, sweeping, level 
plain of tend'erest, most delicate, and springlike 
green, dotted with white villages (Pompeii, and 
others), checkered with country roads, while far 
away, against the sky, rose the great, beautiful 
cone of Vesuvius, with the attending ragged 
Somma heights. The great cloud of smoke from 



VAL DI TRAMONTI. 223 

the crater (like incense of perpetual sacrifice 
upon a mighty altar), depressed by the wind, 
lay along one side of the cone-like mountain, 
like a soft and wondrous plume. The sun- 
light lay warm upon it; the hazy air added to 
the dreamy and phantom-like effect. It looked 
so calm and peaceful upon the sunlit plain, and 
the old mountain seemed so harmless, that it was 
difficult to realize that, as one day mightier vil- 
lages than these were suddenly obliterated and 
buried out of sight, so some day a terrible mass 
of "scoriae," steam, and lava may again devastate 
and sweep all sign of the present busy, teeming 
life from the face of the earth. It was, never- 
theless, a very pretty and striking picture, as 
seen from that Pisgah height. 

As we drove down the valley upon our return, 
the outlook seemed entirely changed, because we 
were looking down, and not upward. Many a 
pretty vista opened before us, and always in the 
distance was a triangular piece of blue, — the 
Mediterranean, seen through the mountains that 
guard the opening of the valley; and all along 
the way were myriads of pink -lipped daisies, 
pale crocuses, and great masses of lilac and wild 
rosemary, making the green banks quite garden- 
like. So ended our visit to the pass and tower 
of Chiunzo, twenty-two hundred and fifty feet 
above the sea. 



224 A FAGOT OF ITALIAN STICKS. 

Along this rugged shore everything seems a 
part of a romance and a story. Way up, upon 
an apparently inaccessible mountain-height, we 
see the picturesque and extensive ruined walls of 
an old monastery, from which two popes have 
been chosen. 

Upon the bay side of the precipitous mountain- 
spur upon which our hotel stands is a lofty and 
dry cavern, with masonry piers and arches, and 
in its depths is seen the sculptured prow of an 
old vessel. And " thereby hangs a tale." A 
hundred years or more ago the head of the House 
brought a fair bride from Venice in this very 
vessel, and all these long years it has been 
unused, but cared for because of its loving ser- 
vice. "Men may come and men may go," but 
the good little barque lies there forever. 

Day after day we hoped to be able to visit 
Paestum ; but knowing that the keen north wind, 
from which the mountains protected us, swept 
that desolate plain without obstruction, we waited 
until it seemed as if we " would die without the 
sight." But "patient waiting" proved no loss, 
for February 21 was almost windless, the sea 
was calm, the sky clear, and the day seemed 
made for just such an outing. At 7.20 we were 
off. Oh, the beauty, solemn, still, and glorious, 
of that early morning beside the boundless south- 
ern sea! We drove merrily along the wonderful 



A DAY AT PAESTUM. 225 

road, by which, quite three weeks ago, we came. 
The coast seemed more irregular, the headlands 
more prominent, the coves and indentations more 
deep, the mighty mountains more fantastic in 
shapes, and the road itself more startling than 
ever, — now swinging low, now bounding as in 
mid-air; clinging to the face of steep acclivities, 
or to the base of fearful precipices; curling, ser- 
pent-like, along indentations and over rocky pro- 
jections; and always with some wondrous view 
of monumental cliffs and peaks, or bold mountain- 
side and magnificent peerless sweep over blue, 
tideless waters, toward the Calabrian range, 
glistening in the morning sun. 

Such variety of form and color ; such combina- 
tions of picturesque villages, ruined piles, strange 
fantastic tossings of lofty mountains; near effects 
of exquisite beauty, because of the deep green 
and glorious golden sheen of orange and lemon 
plantations, and blue, gleaming waters ; and dis- 
tant glories of mountain peaks, lying like clouds 
against a horizon of tenderest hue, rarely comes 
twice, even in an European tour. . The great 
mountains, along the sides of which we were 
bowling so joyfully, shut out the rising sun, but 
not the glorious lighting up of the skies, — the 
magnificent melting and blending of amber and 
golden gloss and the weird and magic effect of 
the unfolding day upon prominent and distant 

VOL. II. — 15 



226 A FAGOT OF ITALIAN STICKS. 

points. We could "only wonder and adore; " for 
between the rapidly changing outlook, because 
of varying position, we were kept in a thrill and 
ecstasy of delight. Finally the sun bounded 
clear of mountain and hill, commenced its 
unbeclouded way, and flooded the scene with 
delicious warmth and exuberant gladness. 

Salerno, the terminus of our drive, lies by the 
sea about eight miles from our hotel. It is a 
place of much business importance, with some 
twenty thousand inhabitants, and a wonderful 
ancient history of the ninth and twelfth centu- 
ries. It has now a residency of great wealth, 
and in summer is a favorite resort of Italian 
aristocracy. Traces of its former greatness may 
be seen in the facades upon the narrow streets 
of the old town. The modern town is well built 
up, but it all has the strange, mixed look of filth,, 
slatternliness, and imposing structure, that seem 
inseparable from all Italian towns. Near the 
sea are beautiful gardens, and a theatre, that 
looks as if it could accommodate all the popula- 
tion likely to scrape together the entrance-fee. 

At Battapaglia we took a branch road for thir- 
teen miles, to Paestum. At 11.30 we alighted, 
passed through a station with gardens of bloom- 
ing rosemary and purple stock, walked for five 
minutes across a level plain, hidden from all 
view by a high, solid stone-wall. We turned 



A DAY AT PAESTUM. 227 

the corner, or end, and our hearts stood still! 
for there upon the wind-swept, sun-scorched, 
desolate plain, rose in solitary, solemn, and 
impressive simplicity and grandeur the ancient 
ruined temples, which for long years we had so 
wished to see. A few minutes more brought us 
to the gateway, where the customary " franc " is 
demanded. Above the window is this notice: 
" It is forbidden to enter in antiquities diggings 
before sunrise and to remain there after sunset," 
— which is a good example of "English as she is 
spoke " in this country ! 

Baedaeker says that under the name of the 
city of Neptune, a settlement was founded here 
by the Greeks six hundred years before Christ. 
After the usual experience of those days of war, 
conquest, and pillage, it fell into the hands of 
the Eomans, who, in 273 before Christ, founded 
the colony of Paestum. It gradually fell into 
decay, and was devastated by the Saracens in 
the ninth century; and in the eleventh it was 
despoiled of its sculptures, etc., and for centu- 
ries lay in desolation. Nothing conspicuous 
now remains but the old city walls and watch- 
tower, two stately temples, and a so-called 
"Basilica;" but they are grand and impressive 
beyond description. The Basilica is of stone, of 
grayish, silvery tint, and consists of an oblong 
enclosure with sixteen columns at each side and 



228 A FAGOT OF ITALIAN STICKS. 

nine at each end, supporting a single cornice. 
The huge columns taper in a sort of curve, and 
have capitals of queer, mushroom effect. Central 
columns divide it into two apartments; and this 
is all. But a few hundred feet from it stands 
the temple of Neptune, which still displays most 
satisfactorily the simple majesty and the security 
of construction peculiar to the best age of Greek 
architecture. It is in such a state of preserva- 
tion that imagination has to furnish but little. 
Columns, cornices, and pediment are all there, 
and although a "little nicked, almost as good as 
new." It is one hundred and eighty -nine feet 
long, has thirty-six fluted Doric columns at each 
side and six at each end, all seven and one half 
feet in diameter and twenty-eight feet in height. 
In the interior are two rows, of seven columns 
each, above which is a row of smaller ones, which 
originally supported the roof. The color of this 
temple is a tawny, yellowish brown, shaded to a 
mellow, dull gold. A quarter of a mile away, 
stands, upon a slight elevation, the small temple 
of Ceres, or Vesta, with columns, cornice, and 
pediment. 

So much for history and architecture. Some- 
how we cared little for the past, still less for the 
measurements, and literally nothing for the use 
or object of them ; but enjoyed to the full, pressed 
down and running over, the romantic, poetic, 



Temple of Neptune, Paestum. 



A DAY AT PAESTUM. 229 

and artistic atmosphere and expression of the 
scene. One is oppressed with the consciousness 
that all this, with its surroundings of busy, 
pagan prosperity, once pulsed with rich, power- 
ful, and lusty life, and now lies dead, — passed 
away forever ! And yet the Galilean story lives 
on! We walked around the two stately, impres- 
sive ruins; looked at the long, imposing row of 
massive columns, and the exquisite vistas formed 
by them, and caught the lovely effects of lights 
and shadows, and the wondrous beauty of the 
structures, as we gazed upward into the blue 
heavens; stood enchanted, as we saw, through 
the length of the Temple of Neptune, the little 
ribbon of green the sea (no longer blue) made 
against the sky. Massiveness, grandeur, sub- 
limity, and strength is the expression of the 
simple lines of the entire structure, but beauty, 
delicacy, melancholy, and romance are suggested 
in the soft blending of brown and russet and gold 
and yellow, as in a lion's mane and skin, and 
in the tender, dreamy atmosphere of sadness, 
desolation, and ruin that rests upon it, and abides 
with it forever. 

Time has thrown a pall of lovely blending, 
melting hues and tints over this symbol of a 
dead and unresurrected past. We loitered about 
it, and then walking a few hundred feet away 
saw it first from one angle and then another, 



230 A FAGOT OF ITALIAN STICKS. 

and, somehow, the last seemed always the best. 
And then we walked to an old watch-tower upon 
the ancient walls, five minutes away; and, stand- 
ing there, we looked across the desolate plain of 
tender green with dark patches of asphodel and 
acanthus, and white gleams of daisies, and caught 
sight of the ponderous, gigantic, but softly beau- 
tiful old Temple of Neptune, diagonally, with 
column, cornice, and pediment, all in simple 
perfection. It was so still, so grand, so awe- 
inspiring! It was like looking at the face of 
kingly, royal dead. There was, withal, a "touch 
me not" repression about it. One felt it had 
stood there alone for ages, and that it asked 
nothing of this workaday, practical age. As a 
" symphony in browns " it was exquisitely love- 
ly, — the outer columns in shadow a rich brown; 
their sun-touched bases a gleaming yellow; the 
inner columns in full blaze of sun glowing like 
heated metal; and through it all great slants of 
brilliant sunshine and broad masses of darkening 
shadow ; and beyond, the rich green of the sea, 
and, in the distance, snow-tipped mountains, that 
seemed to melt in amethystine and opaline tints 
into the pale sky. It was a weird and beautiful 
scene, a dream of form and revelation of color, — 
earth, fair and beautiful; sea, calm and deep, 
chrysoprase in tint; and sky soft, dreamy, and 
melting; desolate plain and perfect Greek out- 



RAVELLO. 231 

line, and wind-waved asphodel and boss-like 
acanthus! And yet for symmetry, harmony, 
and perfect beauty no dream or poem or pic- 
ture could be more complete. 

We turned reluctantly away at 4 o'clock, 
took our carriage again at Salerno, and saw the 
pirate towers, clustered villages, distant island, 
and far-away mountains burnish and glow with 
the setting sun, as by fire, and later fade and die 
away in shadows deep. And when, e'er we 
reached Majori, the sun was hidden by the nearer 
western hills, the glorious light still made far- 
away Salerno by the silent sea sparkle like a 
jewel, and the Calabrian range of mountains, with 
their heads of snow, gleam like gates of pearl. 

Along the summit-ridge of a lofty mountain to 
the westward, and almost directly above our 
hotel, is a long, straggling mass of ancient villas, 
churches, and monasteries, — all that remains of 
the once powerful principality of Eavello. How 
the mighty have fallen may be judged from the 
fact that in "the zenith of its prosperity it pos- 
sessed thirteen churches, numerous palaces, and 
thirty-six thousand inhabitants," and now its 
population scarcely numbers two thousand souls. 
But the drive there is a lovely one, and the place 
is very interesting, because of fine specimens of 
Moorish architecture. We passed along the road 
overhanging the sea for a mile or two, and then, 



232 A FAGOT OF ITALIAN STICKS. 

by a road doubling repeatedly upon itself, struck 
inland, and climbed a spur of the mountain, with 
views of changing and exquisite loveliness at 
every turn, and emerged upon the beautiful val-' 
ley of Atrani. A smooth and beautiful road, 
with protecting outer wall, led us on and on, 
sometimes for a long way as if propped on the 
hillside or hanging in mid-air, and then by zig- 
zags to greater heights, always with striking 
views, down into the ravine-like valley and 
across upon the opposite mountain-side, terraced 
and terraced, sometimes in fifty rows, and with 
the most wild, picturesque ruins of fortresses and 
castles upon the very summits of the rough and 
jagged crags. Often it was difficult to distin- 
guish rock or crag from ruined towers and walls, 
so perfectly did they harmonize in outline and 
color. One side of the valley the immense lofty 
rocks, for hundreds of feet above us, seemed 
scooped out as by some mighty, rushing flood. 
All along were the wonderful, fortress-like ter- 
races covered, not as below with lemon-groves, 
but by vigorous vineyards. Quite a celebrated 
white wine is produced here, not unlike the 
better brands of Ehine wine. After all, words 
give little idea of this deep, narrow valley with 
its fine roads, lonely monasteries, and ancient 
buildings huddled together in most picturesque 
fashion. 



RAVELLO. 233 

Finally we emerged in a small open plaza, 
before the old, eleventh -century cathedral, a 
building of no interest, but containing an 
"ambone" (a box-like pulpit from which the 
Gospels were read), which surpassed anything 
of the kind that we saw in the Eternal City. 
Box-like in shape, supported by columns resting 
upon the backs of lions of white marble, deli- 
cately sculptured in cornices and bands and 
panels, inlaid with the finest Byzantine mosaic 
of gold and brilliant pigments, it is worth a jour- 
ney to see. In the forlorn old church of San 
Giovanni we found a pulpit of the same charac- 
ter, some portions of which were like the borders 
of an illuminated missal. Exquisite in execu- 
tion, and sumptuous in detail, both in jewel- 
like mosaic and richly-wrought marble, it 
seems a pity they are hidden away in so obscure 
a place. 

Close by are the grounds and mansion of a 
wealthy Scotchman. The house and tower and 
various remains are Saracenic in style, and are 
most picturesque and beautiful, and are sur- 
rounded by grounds in wide terraces, laid out 
with flower-borders, and abounding in palms, 
cypresses, and evergreens. The view is simply 
indescribable. One seems lifted or suspended in 
the air, — the mountain slopes steeply away, in 
the depths lies the sea, shimmering in golden 



234 A FAGOT OF ITALIAN STICKS. 

light, and far away are the mountains and the 
Calabrian Hills, lost in opaline mists. 

" As the bird flies," Amalfi does not seem far 
away from our eyrie; but, owing to the irregu- 
larities and indentations of the coast, it is a drive 
of fully four miles. It is most exhilarating and 
exciting to dash along a road that one moment 
hugs the mountain, the next swoops like a bird 
down to the water's edge, then through little 
villages and around headlands and into deep 
coves, and at last suddenly to face the full pano- 
rama of the bay and town of Amalfi, warm and 
sunny in the sheltering embrace of everlasting 
hills, — a vision of peaceful and transcendent 
loveliness. High up, as upon a ledge, in the 
face of the opposite mountain, is seen the old 
Capuchin Monastery, now a hotel, some two 
hundred and thirty feet above the sea. Queer 
that a monastery built in 1212 should in 1891 be 
occupied as a hotel ! The old cells are white and 
attractive, and the central hall is now a dining- 
room. Quaint and pretty cloisters open upon a 
terrace, opposite which a huge cave in the moun- 
tain-side is fitted up with the scene upon Calvary. 
From the opposite end, stretched upon a narrow 
ledge, is a long, embowered walk, with the cliff 
rising sheer upon one side, and dropping away 
as abruptly upon the other. Great clusters of 
glorious white and pink roses hung over the 



AMALFI. 235 

trellis, and spring flowers in profusion bloomed 
upon either side of the walk. The view is un- 
surpassed for loveliness: down upon the sunny 
bay; out upon the sapphire sea; over the pictur- 
esque town of Amalfi: across to towering moun- 
tains crowned with solitary towers, and far away 
toward the hyacinthine range of Calabria. Time 
was when Amalfi with its wealth and fifty 
thousand inhabitants was a world-wide power. 
Longfellow has sung sweetly of the old Capuchin 
Monastery outlook, and Eogers has versed its 
glorious record in melodious rhyme. 

" When at length they fell, they left mankind 
A legacy, compared with which the wealth 
Of eastern kings, — what is it in the scale ? 
The mariners' compass." 

The sea, centuries ago, undermined the town, 
and subsequent inundations and war and pillage 
have left only a busy, modern village of seven 
thousand inhabitants. But the fine old eleventh- 
century cathedral, a striking example of the 
Lombard-Norman style, still stands with facade 
of alternate layers of black and white, and a 
deep portico with marble screen-work. In the 
crypt lie the remains of Saint Andrew, the 
apostle who, leaving his nets, followed the Lord 
and was made a "fisher of men." 



236 A FAGOT OF ITALIAN STICKS. 

L'ENVOI! 

Our three sunny weeks, ten days of which the 
north wind had made Naples and its suburbs, 
thirty miles away, unendurable, were ended. 
Our fagot of sticks along Salerno's shore was 
gathered. Decorated by the portly proprietor 
with boutonnieres of lovely flowers from the 
terrace, we were seated in a carriage, and all 
things were ready. Suddenly he who had been 
all smiles and good wishes seemed to realize it 
was no time for mirth. The light faded from 
his face; the eyes drooped mournfully, and with 
hand across his portly bosom, and head bowed as 
low as his rotund figure allowed, he stood a 
picture of grief, at which we could not help 
laughing, as we bowled merrily away toward 
"fresh fields and pastures new." 






6 



fd. 














o V 



■*" 



























a ?>" "^ °^|f\y. a a^ ^ - . ^iis ; j ^-^ ^ 










^°^ 



^ * 






4 

% " ^ ... -**,-/ " 00 *° ^ *^-\^ 




^ 






j^JAN 7 9 • a° °* 

■| ^g^32084 ^ O^ 



